Out There
by ServanttotheTallest
Summary: I'm pretty sure Disney's never used a scarf to work its magic; but come on: who wouldn't want to be transported to Disney's Paris? Oh, did I mention Frollo's guards have a vendetta against us? Somehow, we're gonna have to get out of here...and that requires living the film. A self-insert fic.
1. A Magical Scarf?

**Hello! **

**So, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame a few weeks ago, and I got inspired to do one of those "person-gets-sucked-into-a-Disney-movie-and-magically-becomes-part-of-the-storyline-somehow" fics. I've seen them done for other Disney movies like Aladdin (which is my favorite Disney flick of all TIME!). Therefore, I got inspired to take a swing at it. And I know, the main character for my Invader Zim story is also virtually me, but sometimes you just have to embrace your inner child and, come on- who WOULDN'T want to get transported into a Disney movie?**

**Anyways, here's my Hunchback of Notre Dame fic. Just a little FYI: It's also one of those "Girl-falls-into-a-Disney-flick-and-ends-up-in-a-relationship-with-one-of-the-cannon-guys-in-the-story" numbers; if you don't like that, then don't read this, sheesh!**

**Finally, if you've never watched the Disney movie, I'd highly recommend it. The other characters I have in here that are in the real world have fake names and aren't really real. So… just thought I'd throw that in there.**

**I don't own HoND! Don't sue me for this! NOOOOOOO! *runs from lawyers***

**Well, enjoy! :D**

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><p>"Jacob! Don't touch anything! This place is expensive enough without me having to pay for everything you get your filthy little hands on!"<p>

Our lovely history teacher, Mrs. Gale, barked at a student across the room. I rolled my eyes and smirked, turning back to the counter I'd been looking at. It didn't matter where we went on our field trips- Jacob and his friends always ended up instigating some kind of scene, and, usually, costing the school more money.

"Yes, ma'am," I heard the trouble-maker mutter. My eyes scanned the rows of unique, colorful stones below me, each embedded in antique-looking chains and ties of leather. They were so pretty…

"Hannah!" My best friend, Giselle (that's not her real name but I'm using it anyway) ran up to me, a beautiful scarf around her neck. "This place has EVERYTHING! Have you even looked around?" She didn't wait for my response. "Look!" She gushed, "Isn't this the most beautiful scarf you've ever seen?" I didn't want to let her down- she looked so happy there, twirling the thin, purple fabric in her hands- so I grinned and replied with a simple,

"Yes. Yes it is."

She sensed the sarcasm in my voice, though, and turned on me, making an indignant noise. "I'm like, one-eighth gypsy, you know. Some of this stuff might've once belonged to my great, great, great, great, great-"

I tuned out her chorus of "greats" as my eyes swept around the small antique and clothing store we were in. The teacher thought it was a good idea to get her students' hands on some genuine, third-world artifacts, as an object lesson of sorts for the unit we'd been studying. When she told us, though, I didn't exactly imagine us all piling in the bus to go thrift store shopping. I didn't mind so much, as my mo took me out occasionally for excursions like this, but I felt especially sorry for the 11th grade GUYS, who, for the most part, looked bored out of their minds. A few slumped on the floor against the walls, checking their phones or listening to iPods, while a few of the more tweedy, book-worm types eyed the wares with some interest. I spotted Jacob and two of his buddies, who had just managed to knock over a very expensive-looking teal vase, and were now getting a scolding from the store manager and Mrs. Gale.

_Idiots,_ I growled mentally. They were totally incompetent…

"-great, great, great, great, great, great-"

"Okay, I think that's enough!" I said impatiently.

"Sorry… So, you're still looking at these necklaces, huh?" Giselle peered into the glass case, somewhat boredly. Honestly, though, was there any difference in ogling over a scarf than there was in watching necklaces behind glass? We both knew that everything in the store was too expensive for us, anyway. Giselle had brought twenty bucks with her. That scarf, though it was small, would easily be twice that amount, just because it was genuine.

"Hey, can I see that?" I asked her, for some reason wanting a closer look. Maybe it was because purple was my favorite color.

"Yeah, sure," Giselle said, more interested in the necklaces now than me. We traded spots, she handed me the fabric, and I held it up for inspection. The material itself was sheer but soft. It was colored a royal purple, with golden stars sprinkled all around the surface. It felt like silk, but was still think enough for me to see through.

"Heh… it kinda looks like that scarf from that movie, the Hunchback of Notre Dame," I said. I was a big fan of that movie. I enjoyed the mystery of the Court of Miracles, how it was an undiscovered hideaway with rich culture. I smiled at Phoebus' attitude and Quasimodo's innocence; Esmeralda, I'd almost considered a mary-sue, except for her bravery and boldness in the face of the evil judge, Frollo. And my favorite character, the puppeteer, Clopin… How could I forget the witty, playful, and, at times, childish, narrator of the story? In my opinion, the soundtrack, characters, and exhilarating storyline made it one of the best Disney movies of all time.

"Yeah, I never saw that," Giselle muttered flippantly. I gaped at her in indignation, waved a hand dismissively, and went back to studying the scarf.

If I squinted hard enough, I could almost imagine this being the favric that Esmeralda twirled at the Festival of Fools… It had the same pattern and texture as the Gypsy girl's token. I lightly rubbed it against my cheek, feeling the smooth, silky texture and smiling with amusement when I remembered Frollo doing the exact same thing in the movie.

_Creepy. Totally creepy._

"I said don't TOUCH anything!" Mrs. Gale had materialized beside me and yanked the fabric out of my hands with a swift jerk of her bony hands.

"Sorry!" I blurted out defensively, surprised. "I didn't mean… Giselle got it for me!"

Of course, when my words fail me, what do I do? Blame my best friend. Never underestimate the power of pointing fingers at someone else.

"Giselle!" Gale shrieked. "Stop looking at those stones and go put this back where you found it before I get reported!"

"Yes, ma'am," Giselle rolled her eyes and accepted the unwanted gift from our teacher, shooting me a dirty looks as she walked by.

_Not my fault!_ I wanted to protest, but she was already disappearing into the scarf section. When I turned back around warily, to my relief, Mrs. Gale had moved on and was lecturing a group of girls who were on their phones about their not taking advantage of such a precious opportunity for gaining cultural knowledge. I sighed in relief. Sometimes, my instructors scared me more than their outrageous loads of complicated homework did…

Twenty minutes later, we were FINALLY headed out of the million-dollar junk store. Gale rounded everyone up, including us near the back, and ordered us all to head back to the bus. I looked over my shoulder to find Giselle gazing longingly at the scarf, which she'd set back a hook on the wall.

"Come ON, Giselle," I rolled my eyes, grabbing her wrist. "We've got to go-"

"But no! I want it!" She wined like a five-year-old, fighting my grip.

I growled in frustration. "If you don't come, Gale's going to be mad with BOTH of us!" I shouldn't have made the mistake of thinking that sending Giselle on a guilt trip for my own sake would faze her at all; but regardless, she still broke free from me and ran back to the hook, admiring the fabric as if it was some kind of heavenly-woven treasure.

"Just…one more touch," she reasoned to herself, lifting it off the wall.

"Giselle!" I raised my voice, fed up with her shallow, starry-eyed behavior. "Let it GO!" I grabbed on the other end of the scarf and pulled, simply meaning to put it back where it belonged.

"Hannah! It's MINE!" Giselle shouted, tugging back. I yanked on my end, which sent her stumbling forward, and she almost collided into me. "What is your PROBLEM?"

"I don't have a problem! You're the one obsessed with a SCARF!" I pulled it out of her hands entirely, and she looked at me with a mixture of anger and loss. I resisted the urge to smirk victoriously and strode past her, holding the scarf up against the wall.

"Uh… Hannah?"

"What NOW, Giselle?" I demanded, hoping Gale wouldn't give us both after-school work for being so late to the bus.

"Turn around…" Her voice was filled with such curiosity and wonder that I couldn't resist turning to face her...

My mouth dropped open in awe.

"What…?"

Between us, a blue light shimmered in mid-air, making it hard to see her enlarged, shocked features from the other side. The light swirled and curled into a big, portal-like circle, completely blocking Giselle off from me. The weirdest sensation came when I looked down at my hands, and realized the blue light was coming from the scarf itself.

"What the…?" I gasped, unable to form a complete sentence.

"Hannah, what's GOING ON?" Giselle's voice rose in hysteria.

"I DON'T KNOW!" I shouted back. "HELLO?" The store clerk wasn't around, so she didn't even hear us. Nobody else was in the area to watch the phenomenon going on in the middle of the antique store.

"Put it baaack!" Giselle told me, sounding afraid, and I nodded, turning, to hang the scarf up; but then something else crazy happened- I was pulled back towards the light. It was like the vortex was trying to pull the scarf out of my grasp or something- I couldn't step away from it. Instead, I felt myself being pulled closer and closer to the blue…window, as an image slowly formed inside of it.

Within the light, I saw an image of a towering cathedral with two proud, majestic towers. The structure was surrounded by smaller, less prominent homes and shops. In the distance, I could see the jagged parapets of a cold, black building that seemed to rest in the cathedral's shadow.

"What is THAT?" Giselle cried.

Once again, I didn't know, but I was too stunned and shocked to say anything as the blue light continued pulling me closer and closer, into the light.

"Hannah!"

The scene seemed familiar… but from where? I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I just stared with horror at the scene in front of me, trying to get away but knowing it was somehow useless. My voice started out small, scared, and weak, and then grew into a terrified scream as I felt the scarf slip from my hands and I tumbled, arms flailing, into the portal. I heard Giselle give a shriek and felt the floor slip out from under my feet.

Suddenly, I was plummeting, falling, through a thick, black darkness that lasted for about three seconds.

After that, everything went black.

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><p><strong>So, so, so? Did you like it? Of course, that was kind of a prologue- the movie will begin either in the next chapter, or chapter three, after she (I, whatever) gets accustomed to Notre Dame. <strong>

**Review!**


	2. We Encounter the Nasty Guard

**Hey! This actually got some hits! So here's the next update, and yes, this IS going to be a Clopin/OC story, for those who were wondering *cough EverlastingFlower96 cough cough***

**Enjoy :)**

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><p>I woke to the smell of freshly baked bread. Groaning, I pressed a hand over my eyes to block out the bright light coming from somewhere above me. Eventually, I was able to sit up and look around.<p>

I found myself in the middle of a cobblestone road. People walked up and down it, pushing carts or pulling children along behind them. I gazed up at a sign above me that read _Boulangerie_… was that "bakery" in French?

_Where the heck am I? ...What happened?_

I remembered the episode with the scarf and gasped. I wasn't with my classmates anymore, that was for sure. The antique store had disappeared, and everything around me was different- for instance, just a few yards away, a small bridge crested over a creek. That hadn't been there before! A woman on the other side of it opened her window shutters and proceeded to dump a bucket of dirty water out onto the street. Okay, maybe I wasn't that keen on the customs back home, but I was pretty sure NOBODY dumped their laundry water on the street where I came from…

Suddenly, the memory of the image of Notre Dame came to me- the one I'd seen in the portal. I remembered why the scene in the blue light had seemed so familiar now- it was because I had recently been thinking about the movie. Now I remembered the cityscape, the two towers of the cathedral jutting into the sky…wait.

I did a double-take to my right.

_No way…_

Those very same two towers in the movie… were right in front of me. No more than a hundred yards away. They stood there like majestic heralds, throwing down a huge shadow over all the roads and buildings that huddled beneath them.

_This isn't possible!_

That scarf, the vortex… was I…?

"Hey, MOVE it, peasant!" A voice barked from behind me. I whirled around, still on the ground, to find a man with a huge cart trying to get by me. His face was flushed and he looked as if he was ready to barrel me down if I didn't move immediately. "Some people have JOBS, you know! We can't all lay around block the road!"

"Sorry," I frowned at him, standing. I ran to the side of the street and gazed up at the bakery. If this was truly Paris… then what time was it? I guess a better way to put that question would be… WHEN was it? The towers down the street- the cathedral of Notre Dame- looked as pristine and unmarred by nature as it had in the movie…

_Is it possible that I could be…IN the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie? …You're CRAZY!_

This couldn't be happening. I WASN'T in the movie- that would be… hundreds of years ago! That scarf, it had all been a dream and I…

"Oh, no…"

I looked down at myself and found that my regular clothes had disappeared. I wasn't naked, thank God, but I was wearing… French… clothing.

_This is not happening._

I was garbed in a tan-colored shirt underneath a slightly darker tunic that went to just below my knees. A pair of stockings stretched over my calves, leading to simple, dark brown shoes. TOO simple. I looked like... well, a peasant, to put it plainly. Maybe even a beggar. My hair was a mess, no doubt.

_What kind of sick trick IS this?_

I was still in denial as I started hovering down the road, hoping to find some help, or maybe my lost sanity. Charming French architecture rose up all around me- none as dwarfing as the cathedral, of course, but quaint and beautiful in its own way. After a few minutes, I came upon a group of women in front of a shop. I didn't care if they thought I was intrusive- I needed to know when it was.

"Um, excuse me."

They turned towards me with questioning, almost judgmental stares. The women were clothed in garments that very noticeably contrasted mine, causing me to believe that I had just interrupted a bunch of rich, proud girls in the middle of their morning shopping spree.

"Uh… do you happen to know what day it is today?"I asked, trying to inflect sweetness into my voice.

"…Why, it's the fourth!" One of them exclaimed, surprised. "Didn't you know?" She looked at me as if I had grown two extra heads.

I shook my one head silently, baffled. _The fourth of WHAT?_

"In only two days, the Festival of Fools is to be held!" Another one put in. "Everybody's preparing for it!"

"You DO know about the Festival, don't you, _jeune fille_?" The third inquired.

"Yes! Yes, I know what that is!" I blurted out, wanting to avoid looking any more like a stranger than I already did. I did know, though- I knew exactly what they were talking about. It was January fourth, two days before…

"Oh. Good," She waved a hand, laughing. "Then we shall not have to report you," The other two joined in, their laughter echoing down the street as they promptly forgot about me and turned into another shop next door.

"The Festival of Fools…" I whispered. Something was definantly not right here. If I WAS in the movie… Okay, so maybe I was beginning to finally accept that's what had happened… Anyway, if this WAS Notre Dame… what year was it right now? How could I be sure that I hadn't been thrown into the bustling streets of Paris on the wrong year? The Festival likely happened EVERY year, didn't it? So then… that didn't mean this was really the time everything took place in the movie…

My head started to hurt with confusion. I needed to find someone I recognized from the film…

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I turned around toward Notre Dame, which was only a few meters away, my eyes searching the streets for a familiar red cart near the huge, iron gates. To my dismay, Clopin's puppet…cart… THING, was nowhere to be spotted.

"Figures," I muttered. "I get hurled into one of my favorite movies of all time, and I can't even get to meet my favorite Gypsy king." They were all probably off preparing for the party. The thought occurred to me that I'd see him and the other Gypsies at the Festival in two days; if I was in the right time zone, that was.

Until then, I'd need a place to sleep, a source of food and shelter, and maybe a few extra clothes, if the person could manage it.

"Hannah?"

I turned, not believing my ears. "…GISELLE?"

My eyes searched my surroundings frantically, and I finally found her person inside the doorway of a small jewelry shop just a few steps away. She grinned at me from within and waved a hand, motioning me to join her.

"Giselle, what the heck are YOU DOING here?" I shouted, barreling into the store and right up to her.

"Look, Hannah, aren't they beautiful?" She exclaimed, holding a pair of golden earrings up to her face and grinning as if she'd made them herself. "The Parisians have all the best jewelry, you know. I'm almost tempted to move here myself, just for the shopping! I also hear the food is great, too; not to mention the music. Not that listening to Mrs. Gale sing the national anthem every morning is boring or anything; I'm just saying that we-"

"GISELLE!"

"…Yes?"

"Where. Are. WE?" I panted furiously.

"Paris- duh, silly! Listen, I followed you through that FREAKISH portal, it was totally weird and scary, but I ended up here, sooo… I thought I'd look around a bit!" She trilled, crossing to a shelf of bracelets. A woman behind the counter shouted at her in French, likely telling her to get her hands off of the jewelry. She probably thought we were peasants.

Well, at the moment, she was dead right.

"Do you realize we're IN the Hunchback of Notre Dame MOVIE?" I exclaimed.

"Hey, at least it's not that black and white version from like, fifty years ago!" She wiped a hand across her forehead dramatically. "I do NOT look good in black and white."

"We'll have to find shelter," I said, through gritted teeth to keep my voice under control. "Will you help me?"

"As soon as I'm done looking here."

That's what I'd been anticipating with fear. "NO!" I said, more forcefully this time. "We're in the middle of Paris, with NO food, NO shelter, and you're shopping for EARRINGS? This is unacceptable, Giselle. Now, COME on!"

"No- the shiny jewelry!" she wailed as I drug her off. "…But we're in **PARIS**!"

I managed to pull her out of the store and back onto the walkway, just as a small caravan of carts and horses was driving by. We stared up at them curiously. Most of the horses were colored dull browns or blacks. The horse at the front was huge, the color of coal, and had milky eyes that glared down at the townsfolk with hatred. Even more alarming, though, was its rider- a figure I instantly recognized from my memories of the movie and shuddered at the recognition of.

"Frollo…" I breathed. He was too far ahead to hear me by then, but Giselle turned questioningly in my direction.

"Who?"

"Frollo… the villain, the antagonist- he's the evil judge from the Palace of Justice!" I pointed. Others around us were silently watching the procession, too.

"Oooh… well, he doesn't look that bad from HERE," she observed, squinting and holding a hand over her eyes to see him better.

"It's not his appearance that makes him frightening- he looks like just any old man. Albeit, a creepy, angry old man, but it's what he's done to the people here that makes him the villain of the story."

_That, and the way he obsesses over women young enough to be his granddaughters…_

"…What'd he do to them?" she asked.

"**MAKE WAY**!" a voice boomed RIGHT in my ear. A harsh shove to my chest sent me tumbling back onto the sidewalk as a brutish soldier strode by, glaring daggers at us. I saw Giselle fall next to me out of the corner of my eye.

"What-?" I gasped.

"You'd best take care not to get in our WAY, PEASANT," the man shouted, making it clear he was warning everyone else indirectly, as well. The street was suddenly quieter as the onlookers watched the soldier chewing us out.

"We were just walking!" Giselle protested indignantly.

_Shut up, Giselle!_ I panicked. _This is no time to get smart! You picked the WRONG movie!_

"Now listen hear, you scurvy street rat," the man growled, catching a fistful of her collar and hoisting her up really close to his wet, slimy maw. "You do as you're TOLD, or else I'll see to it that your punishment is PERSONALLY arranged by Lord Frollo himself!" His breath probably didn't smell the best, either…

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my BOOTS!" she suddenly landed a sharp kick on the soldier's lower half- I won't say where for the sake of the children- and she reeled backwards, back next to me. The man stumbled in the other direction, spewing curses, and then regained his footing and lunged toward Giselle. Before I knew what was happening, I was instantly between them, holding out my arms for him to stop.

"Please!" I begged. "Don't hurt her!" I hissed the next part over my shoulder at her. "She doesn't know when to shut her mouth!" Giselle glared up at the black-clad officer as if she was imagining ripping his throat out. "She'll stay in line next time- I promise!"

The man considered us for a few more seconds before deciding we weren't worth the trouble of halting the whole procession. "…See that it DOES happen," he snarled, righting himself and striding back to the wagon he'd been walking beside. "The next time the little rat gets in my way, there'll be trouble on BOTH of your heads," he declared over his shoulder. The caravan, most of its members having stopped and who were now eyeing us suspiciously, continued moving at a slower pace. A small crowd had begun to form, but it quickly dispersed after a sharp look from Giselle.

"Can you believe the NERVE of these people? We get a foot too close to their little parade, and BAM! We're 'scurvy street rats!'"

"Have you looked at your clothes?" I countered tiredly.

"What's WRONG with my outfit?" She was dressed in a green tunic similar to mine, except she wore boots, which she probably hated because boyish attire was her number one enemy in the world- she avoided any color except pink as if it was the plague.

"Giselle, you could have gotten us in a lot of trouble!" I said, growing angry. "We haven't been on the streets of Paris for ten minutes, and your attitude is gonna get us thrown in jail! That's the LAST thing we need. If you ruin-"

"Okay, alright! I'll watch my mouth from now on- happy?" She pouted. "I just don't see the justice in harming innocent people! Those soldiers have-"

"Shh!" I pressed a finger to her lips. "Lower your voice! They're still close by!"

The two of us watched the little caravan disappear around the corner before we dared to talk again.

"…Those soldiers are corrupt and mean!" she whispered. I rolled my eyes at her fifth-grade vocabulary. "If they're around for this whole movie, I don't wanna be in it!"

"I don't think we have a choice, Giselle," I put my hands up helplessly. "Look- we're stuck in Paris for the duration of the film. Now, I talked to some women-"

"How is this even POSSIBLE?" She cried in distress.

"Listen to me!" I insisted, barely controlling my temper. "I'm stuck here with you, so you're going to have to do everything I say- you don't know anything about this movie, so I'M your ticket out of here alive! …That being said, I'm not responsible for any of your…" I gestured to where she and the guard had just had it out a moment ago. "…mishaps. So DO try and watch your tongue." Before she could protest, I continued. "Now, listen. Three women near here told me that today's the fourth- the fourth of January. That's two days before the actual movie starts, the Festival of Fools is scheduled to happen, Quasimodo escapes Notre Dame for the very first time in his life," I gestured up at the towers, "and before I FINALLY get to meet Clopin and the rest of the Gypsies of the Court!"

"…I have NO idea what you're talking about."

"SHH! Quiet and just LISTEN! Hah… we need food and shelter."

"Okay," she breathed, turning in a circle. "Where's the nearest hotel? Hm?" She questioned the air, as if she had an invisible personal butler somewhere in the immediate area who was responsible for attending to these kinds of situations.

That butler was not me.

I sighed. "…AND we need money," I added. "Happy now?"

She turned, a mortified expression on her face. "You don't have any MONEY?"

"WE GOT SUCKED INTO A DISNEY MOVIE! **HOW** WOULD YOU EXPECT ME TO HAVE ANY MONEY? GEEZ!"

"Sorry… I didn't mean to make you so upset."

_Yeah, well you also don't mean to be so annoyingly naive and shallow, either!_ I countered mentally.

…This wasn't helping anything. My being angry at Giselle was only wasting my mental energy, which I needed very much at this point. I gazed down the street in the direction that Frollo and his guards had disappeared. "I wonder where he was going…" I murmured thoughtfully.

"Maybe to the that scary-looking black building?" Giselle offered, pointing out what I knew to be the Palace of Justice.

"Giselle! I think you just had an intelligent thought!" I quipped good-naturedly. She frowned, offended. "Er… sorry. But I think you're right… Frollo WOULD go to the Palace of Justice, since he basically works there…but then, why does he have so many guards around to escort him?"

"Tensions between the Gypsies and the guard are tight these days," a woman answered from behind me. I turned. "Forgive me for intruding on your conversation, but I might as well inform you, since you don't sound like you're from around here."

"No, madam, we're not," I said, careful to use _madam_, because it sounded more French than _ma'am_, I guess. She couldn't know we were anything but common street people. "I didn't know the judge carried so many guards with him."

"The Festival is upon us- Judge Frollo is extra cautious now that the Gypsies have been infiltrating the streets more and more," another man answered in a rough, gravelly voice. "This time of year is always worse for those who constantly conspire against their mysterious brood. If we weren't so indifferent to them, we might want protection for ourselves," he shrugged, placing a bucket of fruit into a stand he was manning. "The Gypsies are renown throughout Paris as a race of ill-bred, pocket-picking scavengers who have a nest somewhere in the shadows of the city. They're up to no good, that's for sure!"

_He doesn't sound very indifferent to ME,_ I thought, protective of the underdogs since I'd watched the film so many times.

"I don't see what's wrong with street performers," Giselle commented thoughtfully. "I always thought they smelled funny, but other than that-"

"Giselle! Your tongue!" I complained, leading her away from the staring salespeople.

"What a strange pair," I heard the man mutter to the woman.

"Indeed."

_Ugh… Giselle and her big, fat mouth…_

"Sooo, where are we going?" she chattered, chipper as ever.

"Like I said, we need to find shelter and money; and there's only one place I can think of where the people just might be generous enough to spot us a few dollars. After all, WE'RE not Gypsies…"

"Thank goodness for THAT." Giselle's questioning glance followed my eyesight to the monstrous towers of Notre Dame. Her mouth opened in a huge _O_, as if it'd just dawned on her.

Without another word, she took my hand and we ran across the street in the direction of the church.


	3. Boarders at Notre Dame

It was a glorious morning in Paris. The river Seine shone beautifully in the sun, dazzling rays of light bouncing off of its shifting surface to catch the eyes of all the passersby. I walked easily, a spring in my step and a warm, buttery croissant in my hand, beside Giselle.

"So, where's this… pottery shop?" she asked.

"According to Marge, it's two blocks down and the first store on our left," I answered.

"Too bad we only have enough coins for that," Giselle lamented. "I saw some BEAUTIFUL earrings in that last shop," she pointed right behind us.

"Riiight…"

I guess I should explain how we'd found food and shelter.

Okay, so the day before, we'd gone to the church to beg for money and, possibly, find someone willing to board us for about a week. I'd had to go around for a while, muttering things like, "Alms for the poor?" in a very sad, weary sort of tone, while Giselle covered the other half of the church, likewise pleading for everyone's spare coins. It wasn't long before we started getting numerous glares. People weren't accustomed to being harassed for money INSIDE Notre Dame, after all. Usually, the vagabonds waited outside the walls, in the shadows. Not us, though. We were almost FLINGING ourselves at the churchgoers who strode past, nothing but arrogant smirks and upturned noses greeting us in return. They were SO above peasants. They all were.

_Lord, we really could use some help right about now,_ I prayed silently. _I don't know why we're in this movie at all, but it sure would be great to meet someone friendly!_

That's when the idea first struck me. It had to have been hiding there all along, and I just hadn't seen it, but it was so obvious!

The freaking bell tower.

_Of course…_

We could live here in the church, protected from those brutish guards, and be safe to worship as we pleased. It didn't cost a cent, as long as that archdeacon dude didn't mind that we were here. Then again, he didn't have to know…

I whispered my idea to Giselle the next time we met up, and she got a furrowed look on her brow, as if she was thinking really hard about it. If we'd been in the Court of Miracles, I'd have made a REALLY good pun about how it was a miracle she was thinking hard at all, but this wasn't the time or the place.

"Are you sure that we wouldn't be accidentally forcing ourselves into the plot line of the movie?" she finally said. "I mean, the bell ringer guy is the main character in the story, right?"

And there ended the short extent of Giselle's magical knowledge of the Disney film. Even so, I blinked, surprised, and smiled back at her. "Yes… yes he is…" I looked toward the staircase, which was hidden in the shadows of neighboring candelabra, that I knew led to Quasimodo's home/prison.

"So, wouldn't we introducing ourselves to him be, like, putting us right into the storyline?"

"Hm… I don't know. Maybe that's what we WANT to happen… and it's still almost two days before the film stars, so who knows? Maybe we can get in, get out, and… I don't know… something…"

Giselle gave me a, "I'm-not-that-stupid-or-that-gullible" look.

"Look, it's worth a shot, okay?" I said defensively. "They've probably got food and-"

"Please." Her voice was lower, which I took as a signal to lower my own, since we were, after all, in the church, and people were praying just a few steps away. "You just want to meet your clown boyfriend," she smirked.

I gaped. "W…WHAT?"

"Yep," she nodded and mimicked me in a high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like me. "'Let's go up to the tippity-top of the BELL tower so we can get ourselves thrown into the storyline and I can spend time with my crush- you know, that annoying guy with the girlish HAT? That's him!'"

I stared, stunned into silence before blurting out, "You've never even SEEN this movie! …And he's NOT a clown, he's a JESTER!"

She sighed, bored. "Is there a difference, really?"

"YES!"

"Well, whatever. I'm done looking for sympathy down here," she gestured around us. "Let's go up there and see if the bell ringer will have a little more compassion for us." Giselle grabbed my hand and the two of us crossed to the corridor. As we started up the steps, I vaguely remembered that Claude Frollo would be at work in the Palace of Justice, and felt safer, knowing that Quasi was alone. That way, we were in less danger of being immediately evicted, and we'd probably get to talk to him.

That, or those annoying gargoyles would drop a bell on top of us…

Yep. Classic Disney.

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><p><strong>Guess who was too lazy to make this chapter longer? MEEE! So yeah, next chapter they meet Quasi and more fun stuff… REVIEW!<strong>


	4. Shopping Sprees and Nighttime Action

**Hey! People like this! Honestly, I'm not entirely sure where I want to go with this story. It's not really one of my in-depths projects, like my IZ fic; this one's more for my entertainment… and yours! So it's a good thing the makers of HoND made me a handy little storyline to go by**

…**Not to mention a dashing puppeteer. Your prayers are answered this chapter, by the way. He will be here.**

**Soon…. O.o**

**Shall we get on with matters?**

**We shall.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Shopping Sprees and Nighttime Action<strong>

The stairs leading up to the bell tower were dark, dusty, and smelled of mildew. Not a lot of things lived up here…I could sense Giselle's unease and disgust from behind me- more than twice, she sneezed in the dusty atmosphere, her tragically out-of-place combat boots stomping up the stone passageway, making a ton of noise.

"Shhhhhh…" I turned and held a finger to my lips as we neared the top and I caught sight of a large, wooden beam that marked the end of the steps. "He'll hear you!" I breathed. She hesitated, one foot in mid-air, glancing up behind me fearfully as if "he" was watching us from above.

I turned, trying to push the nervous feeling in my stomach deeper inside of me, and walked slowly up into the bell tower. Looking around, I saw no immediate threat or movement… My eyes widened and I couldn't help gasping as I saw the table littered with wooden figurines on one side of the space… Quasi's carvings of the city.

_It's all true to the movie…_ I marveled, turning my gaze above, to the bells that loomed like silent giants above my head. _Every last detail! _The floor creaked obnoxiously as I stepped further into the bell ringer's fortress, where I knew he'd been hidden away all of his life. I waited a few seconds for Giselle to join me, her face displaying the same emotions of shock and awe that I felt as she walked towards the center of the room. From the shadows, a stone face- what looked like either a saint's or Jesus' likeness- glared at us, giving the space a sudden creepy feeling.

I turned to my friend and was about to whisper to her, asking what we should do next, when a timid voice rang out to us from above, in the rafters.

"…Wh…Who ARE you?"

I jumped, scared half out of my wits, and stumbled in reverse, my head arching backwards in order to find the source. Well, I knew the source, but how had he heard us?

…Giselle.

"You're not supposed to be up here!" the voice came again, a warning tone inflected in it.

"Um…" I stuttered, "Um… we're…" I looked at Giselle desperately, for help, but her wide eyes and silent lips just gaped back at me infuriatingly. Great. Now he probably thought we were intruders.

_You ARE intruders,_ a voice in my head reminded me.

"You must go, NOW!" Quasi's voice came a third time.

"M-My name's Hannah," I called upwards. "And this is…Giselle. We're new around here. We… thought we could get some food… I'm sorry we disturbed you!" My fear tempted me to tell him we were leaving, bolt back down the stairs, and become lost again in the vast crowds of people below, but I knew we couldn't do that. We were hungry and Giselle had just climbed up so many stairs, I wondered how her skinny legs were still standing on their own.

The voice answered us after a few moments of strained silence. "…You're really not intruders?" It questioned. "You're… you're not here to steal anything?"

"No," I assured him. "We're friends. Giselle and I don't even KNOW Notre Dame, so we wouldn't be looking for any treasure, I promise. We just needed a place to stay, and with Frollo roaming the streets-"

_Thud!_ Something landed on the wooden floor a few feet from us, hidden in the darkness. I heard the quiet sound of the bell ringers' footsteps approaching. I squinted, leaning towards the sound, trying to make him out. "I know what you need," he said, understanding evident in his voice. "And I can give you food and shelter, but… you… you must not look at me," he said imperatively.

"…What?" Giselle exclaimed, rather indignantly. "What do you MEAN, 'we can't look at you-?'"

"Just trust me!" he said, a little more forcefully, surprising her with his sudden energy. "You wouldn't want to see what I really look like. If you want food, then take it. Then leave. Please- no one is supposed to be up here!" Before I knew what was happening, there was a basket of fruit and bread being slid across the floor towards us. Halfway on its journey from the shadows to my feet, it caught on a wooden floorboard and flipped over, spilling its contents onto the floor. Quasimodo muttered in frustration and ran out, his cloak covering his face and form, kneeling to pick up the fallen pieces and stuttering out an awkward, painfully sincere apology.

"It's okay," I managed, kneeling to help him. When we'd reassembled the basket, I gently reached out and took the edge of his hood in my hand. Quasi started and reeled backwards, clutching the material to his face. "N-no!...I TOLD you, y-you don't want to see me!"

"I don't CARE how you look," I tried to reassure him, as Giselle's saucer-wide eyes focused themselves onto the basket. She slowly started moving towards it as I did the same with Quasimodo. "I'm still thankful to you no matter WHAT you look like," I tried to reason with him.

"You don't understand!" he insisted. I felt bad for him, knowing that a lifetime of brainwashing by Frollo had left him with a non-existent self-esteem level and an even lower sense of personal, human value. "I'm a monster; don't look at me."

"You're going to make me do this to you, huh?" I questioned, in a mother-like tone. When he stood there nervously without giving me an answer, I lunged forward suddenly, grabbing his hood and flipping it off before he had a chance to stop me. Quasi yelped in surprise, immediately hiding his face behind his two, large hands and running back into the darkness. I huffed. "Quasi-"

"I told you not to look at me!" He exclaimed angrily, fed up with me now. "The least you can do is respect my wishes- after all, I'm giving you food AND shelt…" His voice trailed off as I realized that I'd just used his name without him telling it to me.

_Oops…_

"How do you…?" He exclaimed, awe apparent in HIS voice now.

"Um…" No, I couldn't use the excuse that everyone in the city knew him; Giselle and I weren't FROM the city… _Think fast, think fast…_ "I, um…. Ran into Frollo! Mm- yes! I ran into your master in the streets this morning!" Well, it wasn't a lie. "And I know your name."

"…Frollo told you my name?" He stepped halfway into the light again, his face still hidden, but I could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Well… not exactly, no. But… I've heard about you." There, that was the honest truth. I'd watched the movie and heard of him before. Quasimodo, either from pure confusion or a distant amount of belief, seemed to accept this and questioned me once more, as Giselle devoured an apple behind my back.

"…You're SURE you won't tell anyone," he said, in a tone more like a statement than a question.

"I PROMISE," I nodded. "You gave us food, I'll keep your secret… please show us your face."

He considered this, and then, hesitatingly, stepped into the light, his hands coming up slowly to remove the worn fabric covering his features. When the light hit his skin, I swear it was just the way I remembered it from the movie- red hair that fell over his ears, a bulge behind one of his eyes, and the infamous hump on his back that gave him his demeaning nickname. I looked at him head on, remembering Esmeralda and how I shouldn't make any indication that I was disgusted or at all shocked by his appearance. The difference between her and I was, I knew he wasn't wearing a mask.

"Okay…" I said after a pause. "See? I promised I wouldn't mind." I tried to give him a warm smile, but it was interrupted by the sound of a fruit hitting the floor behind me and a slight gasp of horror.

"Oh, my…" I whirled to Giselle, whose gaze was riveted on him and whose mouth was open in a big _O,_ and tried to stop her from saying anything. "You're HIDEOUS!" she burst out, before I had a chance to slap my hand across her mouth. She struggled against my grip and I yelled,

"Giselle, I swear, if you say anything else this WHOLE time I'll throw you out the window!"

I was able to finally force her into silence, and I turned back to Quasi, an apologetic tone in my voice. "I'm so sorry, Quasimodo, she DOESN'T know how to control her tongue. **I** don't care what you look like- you've got the kindest heart of anyone we've met in Paris this far, and you're the only one who's given us shelter and food. It doesn't matter what's on the outside. Really. You're a great guy," I said encouragingly.

He seemed taken aback by my compliments, and hesitated before speaking again. "…Y…You really think so?" There was a hint of hope in his voice- hope that one person in the city didn't consider his looks the basis for judging him. And I was that person.

"Yes, I do," I smiled. "And I'll straighten Giselle out, I promise." I gave him a knowing look.

"Well… okay," he smiled back. He seemed to accept, at least partially, that we didn't mean him harm and I didn't mind his appearance. For the moment, we were acquaintances, which was close enough to friends for me to feel comfortable reaching for a peach in the basket and taking a huge bite. It was so good… I momentarily lost track of where I was as the juice dripped down my chin, and Giselle started on her third apple. I gave her a distinct look that said, _We'll talk about this later,_ and I could see the unease in her eyes. I didn't care- she had no right to go belting out things like that! Just because she'd never seen someone like Quasimodo didn't mean she didn't need to control her tongue! It made me angry because she was acting exactly like the people down below- shallow. Judgmental. Not caring about a person's heart, but instead, only considering their reputation. Well, I was going to be different.

I talked with Quasimodo as we ate. After a few more exchanges, he felt comfortable enough to sit with us at the small table and talk with us face to face. When he asked me about where we came from, I told him we were from America, and that we were staying here as long as we could before we had to return home. He asked about our parents. I told him they didn't know where we were; we had gotten separated. Which was true, also.

"How did you get so far inland?" he asked. I scrambled for an answer and ended up asking him wryly, "Well, what better place than Paris to stay for a few weeks?" This led us to conversing about the city, and Quasi took us out to the window overlooking the beautiful sunset. Windows of shops and homes gleamed in the orange light, and lingering children darted across the squares, heading home for dinner. Where had the time gone? It seemed like I'd only just arrived about two hours ago, and already night was falling. I guess we'd been searching for a place to stay longer than I thought! I searched the courtyard directly underneath the towers of Notre Dame… still no red cart.

Darn it.

"I won't tell the archdeacon you're here," he promised as we stood at the balcony together.

"Really?" Giselle said, and we both looked at her, me with warning, and Quasi almost nervously. "…Thank you," she said, forcing a smile towards him. This seemed to ease the air between the two a little, and he nodded, accepting her thanks.

"Your welcome. I know he wouldn't like the thought of homeless children living up here- especially with the feast coming up the day after tomorrow. B-but you can stay here as long as you want."

We turned and walked back into the tower, the last rays of sunlight receding from the darkened, stone parapets and the rafters above us. "Quasimodo," I remarked, shaking my head and smiling, "you're one of a kind."

* * *

><p>That night, Giselle and I slept underneath one of the bells, despite the slight fear that it might accidentally fall on us. Reason told me that years of ringing the bells ensured that they were well secured and there really wasn't a chance of them falling. Still, I was a little nervous; but I also didn't want to bother Quasimodo, who'd already retreated to HIS sleeping place, wherever that was. I had a short conversation with Giselle then, explaining quietly about Quasi's past- how he'd been abandoned and adopted as a baby by the man we'd seen earlier today in the square, how he already received enough judgment and isolation staying up here as it was, and how he was EXTREMLY self-conscious. He'd never had other people up in his bell tower, to MY knowledge, and this was the first contact he'd probably had in years with other human beings besides Frollo. If there was one thing we didn't need in order to make it out of this thing alive, it was her running off at the mouth, spewing whatever thought popped into her head at that moment, and potentially ruining our chances. Plus, aside from our survival, it had hurt Quasi, who was so sweet and innocent, I couldn't help feeling extremely sorry for him.<p>

Giselle had apologized to some extent, and promised me that she'd try to control her tongue and emotions; although, with the knowledge of how the rest of the movie was going to go, I knew it would be hard for her to remain silent for very long at all.

"Okay," I surmised, once that was over and done with. "Tomorrow, Quasi said he would give us money to go out and buy some things. For one, breakfast, because Frollo doesn't come till the next day. Also, he wants us to stop by a pottery shop, because apparently the archdeacon's birthday is coming up and he loves foreign pieces of art."

"Really?" she inquired, as if this was fascinating information.

"Yeah… But we can't let Frollo see us," I whispered, our voices reverberating faintly off the inside of the huge bell. "He'd be LIVID to know that Quasi is hiding us from him up here. We've got to keep a low profile once we get back inside the church; then, we can discreetly make our way up to the bell tower!"

She stared at me. I thought for a moment about what that would entail.

"…I think we're going to have to buy you some new shoes…" I told her.

"…YES!" her whisper of glee threatened to spill over into her actual voice, and I shushed her as the bells gave off a faint ringing sound in response.

"QUIET!" I held up my finger to my lips again.

"Sorry…"

"Okay…let's just get some sleep," I yawned, turning over on the soft sheets Quasi had given us. I was exhausted from the day's crazy events. "…There's only one more day before the start of the movie," I added, before leaving her alone and drifting off to sleep myself.

My last thought was, _I wonder whom we'll meet tomorrow…_

* * *

><p>Morning dawned over the city, and in no time, Quasi was ringing the bells, as he did every morning, and we were on our way into the labyrinth of buildings, on a mission for meals and birthday presents. Every time we'd see a black horse or an armed soldier, we'd duck into a side street, or simply turn and go in the opposite direction. We walked by the river Seine, got croissants for breakfast as I mentioned earlier, and succeeded in finding the pottery shop, thanks to the help of a friendly woman named Marge who was washing laundry. Again, I pondered the idea of going swimming in a river that people washed their dirty laundry in every day, and found myself slightly disgusted. But I digress.<p>

"What do you think the archdeacon will think of the vase we bought him?" Asked my friend, holding up the blue-and-green, bottle-shaped piece in the sun.

"He'll think it's the most beautiful, spectacular piece of pottery EVER made!" I exclaimed in an overly confident tone. "After all, we barely had enough money to get you those shoes," I pointed to her new footwear, a pair of shoes resembling simple flats. "He's gonna have to live with it, no matter WHAT he thinks, cause we're completely broke!"

We strolled back in the general direction of Notre Dame when we were finished, stopping occasionally to look into a shop window or to listen to the boys on the street corners, who were shouting the headlines of the papers they were selling. Colorful wagons and costumes were occasionally seen throughout the roads; preparations for the feast were at a climax today. People were rushing to put up tents in the main square, where the festival would be taking place. Dancers were enticing small children to give them coins by offering just a sample of what was to come tomorrow. It was an overall cheery sight. Until Giselle decided to take a freaking shortcut and get us completely turned around.

"Where are we?" I asked in exasperation as we rounded another wrong corner. "How did we get lost in Notre Dame- the towers can be seen from the whole CITY?"

"I KNOW that!" she answered. "But the streets are like a maze! You can't just go in a straight line towards Quasimodo! Duh!"

We stopped in front of a bistro to ask for directions, when a movement caught the corner of my eye. Two shadowy figures darted across the street a little ways down from us. In hot pursuit were two other bulky figures- soldiers, by the appearances of their silhouettes. I could see their armor gleam in the dim light, now created by the rising moon and a few dim street lanterns. A faint shout of, "Come back here, gypsy filth!" both quickened my heartbeat and drew Giselle's attention away from the man she'd been conversing with and asking the way to the church.

"What the…" her eyes widened when she saw the four disappear, headed down an alley towards the next road over. "They're in trouble!" she exclaimed

Before I knew what was happening, my feet were moving in the direction of the chase, not waiting for her approval before running into the night.

"Hannah! Wait!"

"We've got to help!" I insisted, not slowing down. In her mind, these we simply the party people, the festival throwers- it made no sense for the guards to be chasing them. I, on the other hand, knew that the reason they were being pursued had nothing to do with the festival and everything to do with their ethnicity and the money they "stole" from the Parisians. If they got caught, they would be punished, even if they were innocent. I thought of the Palace of Justice and sped up, closing the dwindling gap between us and the guards.

"Hannah!" Giselle yelled, fear building in her tone, as we got closer to the chase. I saw the two men running for their lives- the gypsies, although I couldn't make out their faces enough to see their race- run into a dead end. A cart was blocking the road, and they somehow managed to evade the cops, turn around, and run back in our direction as we emerged onto the street from the alley.

"We've got to do something!" I said, more to myself than to her, as they ran by, ignoring us.

"You there!" one of the soldiers yelled. "Stop them!"

_He's addressing us!_ I realized with shock. I warily eyed the pursuing soldiers as they got closer, and closer, and closer…

"Oops, sorry!" Giselle, doing the gutsiest thing I'd ever seen her attempt, leapt RIGHT out in front of the two men, who had no time to stop before they careened into her, the three of them sprawling onto the cobblestones with surprised yells. Somehow, they managed to fall into a huge puddle of water, and the guards sat up, dripping wet, their faces masks of anger and hate.

"Just WHAT do you think you're DOING?" One yelled furiously. I didn't have an answer. I couldn't believe Giselle had just done that. The figures had disappeared down the road and were beyond pursuing now… her little stunt had given them the last few seconds they needed to make an escape!

"I'm sorry, officers," She offered, a surprising amount of fake remorse in her voice. "I didn't see you approaching!"

"Yes you did!" the other shouted, and I realized with a start that I recognized his voice! "You STOOD THERE while those two rotten scoundrels escaped with our money!" He was the soldier who had pushed Giselle and I back out of Frollo's way yesterday! Around the same time I realized this, he seemed to scrutinize us closely, and his eyes widened in the moonlight. "You're the two peasants who got in our WAY yesterday!"

Giselle and I gazed up at him in fearful silence. His features took on an even more menacing look.

"I don't care HOW poor or obstinate you are- aiding a gypsy is a classified offense!"

"But… why?" Giselle retorted. "They weren't stealing your money, you still have it attached to your belts!" she pointed, and, indeed, they had their pouches full of coins strapped onto their uniforms. "You lied about them!" she said accusingly.

"Why, you little-" the one who'd shoved her yesterday grabbed a fistful of her collar- again, I might add- and said darkly, "Okay, street rat- you want to take a little trip to the Palace of Justice? That's fine by me!"

"Don't touch her!" I found myself wielding an extra amount of bravery, maybe because I knew this was a movie and we most likely wouldn't die, and started beating the guard with my fists. This didn't do much, except cause the other one to grab me from behind, snarling at me to stop struggling.

"Behave yourself, if you know what's good for you, peasant!"

They yanked both of us by the arm, leading us in what I guessed was the direction towards the Palace of Justice. Giselle screamed; my yell of protest and terror was just about to pass my lips when a swift shadow dropped down behind Giselle's guard, too fast for me to make out. A second later, a large, metallic _CLANG_ sounded, accompanied by the painful groan of the man, who'd just been sufficiently clocked in the back of the head by a long, metal rod. Before I could make sense of this, the soldier crumpled to the ground, losing his grip on Giselle, and gave me a momentary glimpse of the stranger who'd just knocked him out.

The only thing I saw, before the other guard turned on him, was the telltale yellow feather.

"HEY!" Ugly number two shouted. "What do you think you're-"

In a manner worthy of Disney theatrics, our newcomer gracefully flipped the second guy, who had been barreling towards him, onto his back, and then gave him a good hit over the head with the same, thick bar. In a matter of seconds, he was out like a light, too.

Giselle and I stood there, dumbfounded, as both guards lay in puddles of water, unconscious, suddenly no longer a threat. At least, until they woke up.

"…Whoa!" Giselle exclaimed, staring at our hero in awe. "You totally just… and the guards were completely… that was so…"

I squinted into the shadows, trying to make out who it was. There was no need, however, because his voice gave him away just fine.

"I take it I did a good job then…?" Clopin half-grinned, stepping out of the shadows more willingly than the bell ringer had. My face lit up involuntarily as Giselle went on looking at him with indifference- she didn't recognize him in his regular, non-jester outfit.

"You're a gypsy, though," I put in, pretending not to know him and gaining his attention. "Why…why did you help US?" I knew that, normally, Parisians didn't defend gypsies from the law, and the gypsies didn't bother with us. The two groups kept to themselves. Which was why I was still trying to process how, one, Clopin Trouillefou was in front of us, and, two, why he'd just knocked out the guards and saved us…

Clopin eyed the out-cold guards and the street, which still held a few other mingling people nearby, and motioned us quickly into the alley.

We were getting favors from all kinds of characters today…

We walked a good distance into the dark, shadowy passageway, where no one would look for us immediately, and I waited in anticipation to hear what he'd say.

"I saw you help Clara and Romulus escape," Clopin explained, his voice sounding just like it did in the movies. I suddenly wanted him to randomly burst into song, but I knew that was virtually impossible at the moment- we were trying to keep a low profile.

"The other two gypsies? The ones who were running?" Giselle clarified.

"Yes," Clopin nodded. "I saw you take off from the restaurant and follow them. I haven't seen anyone aid my people in quite a while… So, naturally, when I saw the guards hauling you off to the Palace of Justice, I figured I owed you one. Also, I wanted to try out my new stick," he grinned, twirling the metal pole in one hand. "Pretty effective, don't you think? I think so."

"What's your name?" Giselle asked.

"I am Clopin Trouillefou, _mademoiselle_," he did a small bow as a look of recognition dawned on Giselle's face. She looked at me, surprised, and I gave her a momentary '_I KNOW!'_ Glance in return before turning back to Clopin. "And you are?" he asked, his gaze bouncing back and forth between us.

"I'm Hannah, and this is Giselle," I ventured, gesturing to my friend. "We're new here."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he took my hand and kissed it, which caused me to blush, but thankfully it was dark and he couldn't see my face clearly enough to notice it. I hoped.

"Um, thank you," I mumbled.

"Oh, no- thank YOU both for helping my fellow gypsies."

"It was nothing," Giselle waved. "…So are you going to be at the festival tomorrow?" I knew that she was probably asking out of plain curiosity- more for my sake than for hers.

"THAT is classified information, _mon cher_!" He teased. "BUT, you can come to the Feast of Fools yourselves and find out!"

"We'll be there," I told him, smiling. "EVERYONE in the city will be there."

"You're right about that. Well, I've got to get out of here before those two sleeping beauties over there decide to wake up. I'll see you two at the festival!"

"Bye!" We replied in unison. A few moments later, that feathered, purple hat and its owner were disappearing in the opposite direction of the sleeping guards, darting around a corner and out of sight.

I took a minute to start breathing normally again.

"Can you believe it?" Giselle whispered excitedly. "That's the guy! That's your movie crush!"

"I don't like him!" I insisted, although I could still feel the warmth in my cheeks. I couldn't believe Clopin had just saved us from the guards- he'd been standing right in front of us, just a moment ago! And he'd seen us trying to save the gypsies.

We'd just gotten major brownie points with the king of the gypsies.

_Thank you, LORD!_

Giselle was gazing up at the roof of the building above us. "He must have been watching the whole scene from up there- I saw him jump down from that roof to save us!"

"He's their king," I whispered, low enough that no one else in the listening world could hear our conversation. "He's the gypsy king- he's responsible for protecting his people. I guess he was thankful that we helped him out." I was giddy with excitement. We'd helped him out! Well, really, Giselle had helped them out by lunging out in front of the guards, but…I had instigated the plan; I'd decided to run after the gypsies to try to save them. That had to count for something.

Suddenly, groans emanated through the air from our right, and my gaze flew to the fallen soldiers lying on the ground. The one who'd shoved us was stirring, his head wet from the puddle of water he'd fallen in. The man sat up, holding a hand to his head, and looked around dazedly.

"Let's go!" Giselle hissed in an alarming tone, and we ran away, the way Clopin had gone, hoping that we'd somehow get back to the bell tower before any more guards could find us.

* * *

><p>Our footsteps echoed in the narrow stone passageway. "I can't believe we got to meet CLOPIN!" I reiterated for the thousandth time as we climbed to the top of the bell tower.<p>

"I KNOW!" she threw back her head in a sigh, exhausted from my repetition of that fact, not to mention the long day of walking. Quasi was upstairs waiting for us, a nervous expression on his face; he was pacing up and down in the small space. When he saw us walk in, a smile of relief appeared on his features and he ran down to greet us.

"Hannah, Giselle! Oh, I was worried that Frollo found you! He's coming to visit me in the morning and I thought that maybe, he'd decided to come early and had discovered you both!" Unexpectedly, he wrapped us in a caring hug, which I happily melted into, very tired myself.

"We're okay, Quasi, really. We just got lost. It's such a big city…" I explained.

"I know…" he sighed wistfully, looking towards the balcony. "If only I could explore it with you… I've been trapped up here all my life, you know. It's lonely…" he turned back to us. "But now I have you two!" he exclaimed with another big smile.

"Yep," Giselle grinned back, patting him on the shoulder. "And we aren't just freeloaders- we WORK for our keep!" she held up the basket full of goods. "We brought back everything you told us to…" a sheepish look covered her features. "…Iiincluding your dinner. Um… sorry it's so late. I kind of took a wrong turn…" Wow. Giselle was actually guilty. This was relatively rare…

"It's alright- all is forgiven!" Quasi shook his head as if apologizing was totally unnecessary. This was one of the things I loved about the guy- he was like a child: quick to forgive anyone, and slow to get angry. He hadn't been influenced by the world's short temper and fiery tongue. I compared him to the soldier we'd confronted in the street and thought about how they were complete opposites. The thought made me even more grateful to Clopin, who'd ensured us safety, and another night up here, as opposed to spending it in locked in the stockades or in the Palace of Justice.

"So, did you run into any trouble out there?" he asked us over dinner. Giselle and I shared an uneasy look over the table before confessing.

"We ran into some soldiers who were chasing a pair of gypsies," I told him. Quasi's eyes widened.

"You WHAT?" he exclaimed, looking worried.

"It's okay, we were fine," Giselle assured him. "I stepped out in front of them to protect the gypsies, and Hannah and I were saved from them by this OTHER gypsy who-"

"Master says that it's dangerous to associate with Gypsies!" Quasi said urgently.

"Are you sure he's right about that?" I ventured.

"Oh, yes, master is right about everything- about me, all the believers, everyone! The only reason I let you stay here is because he doesn't know about it. You have to understand… I do everything I do to please him. Until you came along, no one else really cared about me. I honestly feel guilty about going behind his back like this, but…"

"But you're helping us," I offered. "Otherwise- without you- we wouldn't have anywhere to go."

"That's true…" he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"God is pleased with a giving heart," I reminded him, sure that he'd learned the Scriptures all his life, thanks to Frollo. Although, I didn't know if the evil judge had taught him about the GENEROUS nature of God…

"Yes," he nodded, "I've heard that."

"Well, you have a giving heart," Giselle summarized, "so God's pleased with you. And I'm sure your caretaker will find out about us soon enough. We can even tell him in the morning, if you'd like that."

A look of uncertainty passed over the bell ringer's face. "I…I don't know. Frollo is very… aristocratic-minded. He doesn't like peasants," Quasi shook his head. "You would probably get kicked out onto the streets again if we did that. I don't want you to be without a place to stay."

"Thank you- that's very kind of you," Giselle told him.

"Thank YOU for running my errands for me," he smiled back, and then turned towards the window, as if regarding someone, and smiled again. When Giselle gave me a puzzled look, I grinned and mouthed, _the gargoyles_, before remembering she didn't know how Quasi talked to his little stone friends. I could see them, shrouded in shadow…I could almost make out the kind looks on their faces, which freaked me out a LOT, honestly.

Suddenly, I suggested we all go to bed before they could keep staring at us.

A few minutes later, Giselle and I were back under the bell, tucked in our sheets and pillows, waiting for sleep to carry us into tomorrow. I couldn't wait for the Festival of Fools, for Clopin's singing that would no doubt wake me in the morning, telling Quasi's story for the little children to hear. The movie would be starting in just a few hours…If the year was right, everything would go according to the film from here on out, and we'd be caught up in a whirlwind of action that wouldn't slow down until the end of the movie, when…

What would happen then? I didn't know. Would we make it that far? I didn't know that, either. I was still waiting for it to START! My current excitement outweighed the degree of restlessness lurking in the back of my mind, though, and I focused, instead of the impending dangers that awaited us tomorrow, on the prospect that maybe… just maybe…Clopin would see me and recognize me at the Festival of Fools tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Like? Not like? Was Clopin in character? I hate when I write OOC stuff! Review, please! (Puppy dog eyes) I tried!<strong>


	5. Ditchin' Frollo

**This took up thirteen pages on mah computer! YAY!**

**Chapter 5**

The first rays of sunlight glinted off the shiny metal bells, gently urging me out of sleep. I rubbed my eyes, slowly opening them to the world around me. A momentary feeling of confusion swept over me, until I remembered where I was… the bell tower. It took me a few seconds to remember the significance of that day, and I immediately jumped up, throwing off the sheets, ducking to avoid the bell as I stepped out from under it. Giselle continued to snore loudly behind me, not accustomed to waking until noon.

I crossed to the table of figurines, looking at the careful arrangement of the wooden people in the town square.

_I can't believe he carved all of these so intricately,_ I thought, lightly placing a finger on one resembling the baker. Suddenly, something caught my eye and I blinked, unwilling to believe it was really true. There, on the table, lying near the edge, were two hunks of wood being fashion into… girls. One had on a brown-and-tan outfit, and her hair had been carved out shoulder-length and brown, just like mine. The other had blonde locks that cascaded down her back, and was donned in a green-painted outfit. _Like Giselle..._

Had he really begun to carve figurines of us? When had he done this? Last night? During the day, when we'd been wandering around the city? The thought warmed my heart and caused me to smile. He really was sort of like a toddler- immediately latching onto whatever affection was offered to him, taking it to heart, and loving everyone back. It struck me as crazy how Giselle and I had become such good friends with the main character of the story in only two days. It was fitting, I supposed, if we were part of the movie that we should meet and befriend Quasimodo right off the bat.

Which reminded me of another important fact: the movie was starting. That meant that the Festival was today, and Quasi would finally escape this place for the first time. That, and the red cart that was sure to be downstairs, but I tried to focus on Quasi- he needed our help the most this morning.

Looking around, I didn't see him up yet, so I walked out to the balcony and had a look around. Noting the gargoyles positioned on either side, I peeked inside the one with it's mouth open- I couldn't remember all their names, sheesh- and saw a tiny, white bird sleeping peacefully, temporarily boarding at Notre Dame, just as we were. I stared out at the skyline of the city, taking in the temporary peace, the quiet before the storm. In just a little while, things would start moving too fast for anyone to keep up with. But, for now, the cool morning air held an atmosphere of stillness that I took great care to relish. I knew it would probably be the last time I had this much peace and quiet for a while.

Before another half-hour was up, I heard the shuffling of feet behind me, and turned to look as Quasimodo came lumbering out to the balcony to meet me.

"Hello, Hannah," he greeted.

"Hi, Quasi. How did you sleep last night?"

"Very well, thank you. And you? Is it comfortable under the bells?"

"Yes, I was very comfortable- the sheets and pillows you gave us are so soft; I barely even notice I'm sleeping on the floor."

He looked embarrassed for a moment. "I'm sorry I don't have anything more to offer you… I'm sure, coming from America, that you must have much more…pleasant accommodations..."

_Oh, great. There he goes again with the self-demeaning talk, making me feel all guilty… I shouldn't have said anything._

"No, no, Quasi," I tried. "It's fine. Trust me, living up here beats living down there any day. Think of all the people who sleep in their own beds, never travel very far outside their homes- they never get to spend time with you, up here! They never get to hear you ring the bells. Well…" I checked myself. "I guess they DO hear them, but… We get to SEE you ring the bells. And that's pretty impressive!"

He smiled shyly, not used to compliments, as I knew. "Would you like to see them all?" He started back inside, me following closely at his heels. "I could give you the grand tour!"

"That would be awesome!" I exclaimed, following him up some steps. In the next few minutes, we traveled around the bell tower, and Quasi told me the names of all the bells- big and small, wide and narrow- that adorned his home. I was afraid, walking up on the rafters, but he assured me that he wouldn't let me fall.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I called, holding out my arms for balance.

"No," he answered playfully. "But don't worry- I'll catch you if you lose your footing."

_That's reassuring… Except, I'm still nervous._

"And these up here are the smallest ones," he explained, helping me up to a higher platform. "They sound kind of like wind chimes compared to the huge ones down below. If you ring them all at once, it kinda sounds like rain falling."

"Really…" I ran a hand down one of the small bells. It was about eight feet tall and at least five feet wide, with beautiful inscriptions on all sides. The bells were made of shiny, smooth metals of all different colors. "They're…wow," I said, at a loss.

"If you think THAT'S impressive, wait till you HEAR them," he smiled knowingly, reaching for a rope that hung down nearby. My mouth opened in anticipation, like a kid on Christmas morning who's just seen all the presents under the tree and is waiting for them. On special mornings, he told me, he rung all the bells, while on regular ones- like yesterday morning, for instance- he only did a small number. Part of the reason he was doing all the bells today was the festival. Another factor was simply the bell ringer's current mood. However he felt would determine the melody that his tower sent out to the rest of the waking city. Well, he looked pretty happy right now to me…

Without warning, he seized the rope tightly with both hands and pulled down, hard. My eyes ran up the rope to the small bell that was pulled into motion; it swung back and forth, making a clear, crisp ringing sound that echoed throughout the entire tower.

"Ooh!" I exclaimed, already reaching for a second rope as Quasi offered it to me. "Let me try!"

"Give it a good, hard yank!" he encouraged. As soon as I pulled down on the thick rope, another bell joined in with the first one, both of them complimenting one another beautifully. A shocked and now awake Giselle yelled up at us from below, but I couldn't make out her words. I leaned over the side of the platform and smiled down at her disheveled head of hair.

"I'M RINGING THE BELLS!" I shouted, pointing wildly in excitement. I'm pretty sure she responded with something like, _NO DUH!_ All I could see was her lips moving. The majestic bells drowned the rest out.

Soon, other sounds joined in with our symphony of music- I could faintly hear the sound of singing from below- a mass service? I could make out the distant noise of the chorus men singing, blending with the music of the bells. Quasi and I continued to weave through the bell tower, pulling all the ropes we came in contact with. He laughed at me in amusement as I yanked down with all my might on one of the BIG bells on the floor level, and it let out a huge _BOONG! _That caused me to clamp both hands over my ears. I looked up, still smiling, to catch him laughing at me. The whole symphony of music from all of the bells blended together; in the background, I could hear the chorus reaching a dramatic crescendo in their singing.

Giselle came over to me as we listened to the heavenly sounds, Quasi quickly going back up in order to keep them all ringing. I was still laughing, caught up in all the excitement, while Giselle just stared upwards, looking slightly put out by all the sudden noise, yet surprisingly pleased by the music. The choir continued to belt out their harmonious song as the bells rang in unison.

It took a few seconds for it to hit me. _The bells. The singing. The climactic music sounding all at once, from everywhere…_

The movie was starting!

I almost yelled for quiet, to clear my head, before all of the noise suddenly died down, almost immediately bringing a suspenseful silence. Strangely, the bells and the choir had stopped at the exact same time, and I turned with excitement to Giselle before racing towards the balcony, not wanting to miss one word.

My eyes made a beeline for the square, where a familiar red-and-gold cart was stationed. A grin broke across my face. As I listened to a distant rooster crow, Giselle followed me outside and we both drank in the first seconds of the story from above.

_Morning in Paris, the city awakes to the bells of Notre Dame_

I grinned like a crazy person as Clopin's musical voice filled the city.

_The fisherman fishes, the baker man bakes to the bells of Notre Dame_

_To the big bells as loud as the thunder_

Here Quasi rang two of the huge bells in quick succession

_To the little bells soft as a psalm…_

A short chorus of smaller ones sounded.

_And some say the soul of the city's the toll of the bells_

_The bells of Notre Dame_

I leaned over, straining to hear Clopin's words to the children as he started his story. I couldn't make them out very clearly, and I couldn't really see him because his cart had a canopy covering it; but I pictured him pulling out his puppet, telling the kids about the "mysterious bell ringer…"

When he moved to the edge of the cart, where we could see him, and pointed straight up at the balcony we were standing on, I instinctively backed up, moving away from the edge in alarm.

"Oh!"

"…What?" Giselle frowned at me.

"He pointed right up here!"

"So? He can't see us," she shrugged. I slowly retook my place, slightly unsure that her statement was true, and glanced down at Clopin's cart. The puppeteer was going on with his story, creatively enticing the children. There were about five or six around his cart now, gazing up at him silently. I guessed they were riveted on his story. He was just awesome like that…

"What's he saying?" she hissed. "I can't hear!"

"He's telling them about Quasi," I whispered, not wanting to miss anything. "Shhhh…"

Clopin started to sing again.

_Dark was the night when our tale was begun_

_On the docks near Notre Dame_

_Four frightened gypsies slid silently under _

_The docks near Notre Dame_

_But a trap had been laid for the gypsies!_

_And they gazed up in fear and alarm_

Giselle raised a slim eyebrow at his dramatic storytelling antics.

_At a figure whose clutches were iron as much as _

_The bells…_

"Judge Claude Frollo," I whispered to her, about the same time he must have explained it to the children.

…_The bells of Notre Dame_

"The guy from two days ago," she clarified. I nodded.

_Judge Claude Frollo longed to purge the world of vice and sin_

_And he saw corruption everywhere_ _EXCEPT within_

"Amen," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I think he was probably corrupted as a child into thinking his family was better than everyone else," I theorized.

"That would explain his belief system…but what about his soldiers? Don't any of them feel differently about the gypsies? None of them want to do anything? To help?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I guess some of them might; but they never say anything, or else they'd get into trouble with the judge." I suddenly remembered Phoebus and grinned. "…The captain of the guard may just come around."

She gave me a confused look. "You know him?"

I smiled. "No."

She kept giving me that strange look. "You're one crazy fan girl, you know that?"

"…_SHE RAN!"_ I responded, echoing the puppeteer, who had just reached the part about Quasi's mother running from the judge.

"Oh, brother," Giselle rolled her eyes, glancing off to the side.

"…Hey, at least I don't randomly burst into song!"

"I'll give you the rest of today."

"…What?"

"We're in a Disney movie- since we're a part of it, we're going to HAVE to sing!" she explained to me, as if I was five years old. "It's just part of the deal. Besides, it'll be fun!"

"I am NOT going to contend with Quasi and Clopin, thank you very much!" I said determinedly. "My voice is NOT as good as theirs. If YOU want to go belt out a song in the middle of the city square, be my guest. I'll be the one in the front row, watching from the audience- safe and sound."

"Aw, c'mon, Hannah, live a little!"

"No."

"Please? Promise me you'll sing-?"

"No!"

"I'll get you a date with Clopin!" she bribed in a singsong voice.

"…No." Her face fell. "No singing, Giselle. Not me."

"You might change your mind," she said hopefully.

"I don't really see that happening."

"I am SET on making you sing by the end of this movie, if it KILLS us!"

"Please don't say that," I implored her. "I'm not planning on dying in here, either, thank you very much."

"…Sorry."

I gave her a wry half-smile. "No you aren't."

Clopin's voice from below brought us back into the present. As he continued, wrapping up the dramatic story, more activity began down in the main square, further away from his red cart. Tents were swarming with gypsies and others who collectively resembled a frenzied colony of ants trying to get all their last-minute work finished. I ignored the rest of Paris and focused on the end of the tale.

'_STOP!' cried the archdeacon_

…_See there the innocent blood you have spilt _

_On the steps of Notre Dame_

_Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt _

_On the steps of Notre Dame_

_You can lie to yourself and your minions_

_You can claim that you haven't a qualm_

_But you never can run from or hide what you've done_

_From the eyes…_

_The very eyes of Notre Dame_

"Is he talking… about Quasi?" Giselle realized, her eyes widening slightly.

"Yes, just like I told you- he was adopted by Frollo when his mother unwillingly abandoned him."

"Because Frollo killed her," she clarified.

"Yes. And Quasi doesn't know- he never hears this part of his life's story until the end of the film." The bell ringer was still busy ringing bells somewhere behind us, inside the tower. "He has no clue that his master never really wanted him; he just wants to use him for his own purposes and gain."

"How could he use him, if he's cooped up here his whole life?" she asked, puzzled.

"I don't know, but the story of Quasi's capture as an infant ends with the archdeacon telling Frollo that he HAS to raise Quasi as his own. I don't think Frollo thought he had much of a choice…"

"Oh… So, why don't we just tell him, then?"

"It's not that simple," I explained. "Spoiling the secret could ruin the whole plotline. Who KNOWS what would happen? We've got to go by the movie, or else we could all end up chained up and maybe even tortured in the Palace of Justice for messing with the flow of things."

"…We could STILL end up in the Palace of Justice after last night, you know."

"…True."

_Now here is a riddle to guess if you can_

_Sing the bells of Notre Dame_

_Who is the monster and who is the man…_

Quasi finished up his repertoire of music by ringing the bells one last time, several in unison, as Clopin's story came to an end.

_Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells_

_Bells of Notre Dame!_

"Daaaang," Giselle sighed, gazing down at the top of the red cart. "Your boyfriend has one AWESOME voice!"

"He's not my boyfriend!" I protested, an excited smile plastered all over my face. His voice WAS one of the best I'd ever heard…just look how he hit that high note.

"Uh-huh, yeah, WRONG!" she made an "X" with her forearms. "I'm gonna get you a date with him somehow."

"I don't date."

"…I'm gonna get you a romantic dinner ALONE with him somehow."

"…Which would be a date."

"'A rose by any other name…'" Giselle quoted Shakespeare, probably the only line she remembered from Romeo and Juliet.

"Suuure," I returned, as Quasimodo walked out of the tower to join us on the balcony. All was quiet again on the street front. Gentle gypsy music floated up from the main town square, as a prelude to the coming festivities.

"Hello, monsieur bell ringer!" I greeted happily. What can I say? Clopin's voice puts everyone in a good mood… right? ...Was it just me?

"Those are some mad musical skills you have there," Giselle told him.

"I don't know what that means, but thanks!" Quasi smiled. His attention turned to the little white bird that was sleeping in the gargoyle's mouth. "Look," he whispered, motioning us over with a wave. Giselle and I peered into the hollow and saw the creature waking up.

"…Good morning," he greeted quietly, smiling. The bird gave him a small squeaking sound in response that sounded kind of like a mouse getting run over by a tractor. "Will today be the day? Are you ready to fly?"

The chick gave him a reluctant glance and rolled its eyes unsurely.

"You sure?" Quasi frowned. Giselle leaned over my shoulder to watch. "Good day to try!" He reached for the little bird, easily picking it up in his big hands and lifting it to the balcony's edge. "Why, i-if **I **picked a day to fly, oh, this would be it," he smiled. "The Festival of Fools!" We all looked down to the flags and tents below that were now void of much activity, but would soon be swarming with people.

The baby bird was still too stubborn to try anything.

"It will be fun," he told us. "The jugglers and, and, and music, and dancing…"

Giselle raised her eyebrows at me knowingly, but I looked off the side of the balcony. She was NOT going to get me to sing. I was determined…mostly…

My little bout of pride caused me to miss the bird's takeoff, but I turned around when Quasi started laughing and saw that it had indeed found its wings after all.

A flock of adult birds coasted past our balcony, and the chick squeaked again, looking eager to join them.

"Go on," Quasimodo smiled, petting its head with one finger. "No one wants to stay cooped up here forever."

It chirped out something that sounded suspiciously similar to _thank you_ and fluttered its way off, disappearing into the morning light with its family.

There was about two seconds of silence before another voice invaded the peaceful atmosphere of the morning. To my complete shock, it was one of the gargoyles.

"PAH! PUH- **MAN**! I thought he'd NEVER leave!" The fat one spat out a mouthful of left-behind bird nest. "I'll be spitting feathers for a week!"

"Well that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth open," The slim, male one countered.

Giselle screamed and dove under the balcony wall, out of sight. "Demon statues! DEMON STATUES! Ohhh, WHY did I come with you? Whhhhy?" she moaned.

The two stone figures cast questioning looks down in her direction. Quasi looked a little depressed at the moment, so I covered for him.

"Um, we're new here. I'm Hannah, and that's Giselle. She's…a little unused to talking gargoyles, if you know what I mean."

"Hey!" the fat one- Hugo, I think- addressed the other one…Victor. "Ain't they the two that showed up yesterday? We spied on 'em from the window…?"

"Ehh, what my comrade MEANS to say is that we simply observed you, uh…passing by," Victor rubbed the back of his neck.

_They were so spying on us…_

Giselle's head popped up over the edge of the balcony. "You can talk," she stated, her voice quavering.

"Uh, DUH!" Hugo snorted. "What, did you think we just stood here all day looking pretty?" He struck a pose.

Giselle answered him with a frightened look.

"Oh, stop it, Hugo, you're TRAUMATIZING the poor girl!" Victor scolded him.

"Eh-heh-heh," he chuckled, "go scare a nun. Hey, Quasi, what's going on out there? A fight? A flogging?" He batted his eyelashes as if a flogging was a regular cause for getting dolled up.

"A festival," said Victor.

"You mean the Feast of Fools?"

"Uh-huh," Quasi answered nonchalantly.

"All right!" Hugo cheered. "Poor the wine and cut the cheese!" He proceeded to make a farting noise with his armpit and I rolled my eyes at Giselle, who was still cowering by the wall, as if to say, _See? They aren't so scary…_

"It is a treat to watch the colorful pageantry of the simple peasant folk."

"Boy, nothing like balcony seats for watching the old 'FOF'," Hugo nudged Quasi.

"Yeah," the bell ringer lamented. "WATCHING." With that, he trudged back inside. I felt bad for him. Hugo, on the other hand, spotted a mime and would've nailed him with a loogey if Victor hadn't stopped him. We all looked inside the tower, where Quasi was hobbling over to his table full of wooden figurines, the spitting image of depression.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Hugo called. "What gives?"

"Aren't you going to watch the festival with us?"

No response.

"I don't get it."

"Maybe he's sick," Victor theorized.

"Impossible!" Came a third voice. The female gargoyle, Laverne, hopped over to us. "If twenty years of listening to you two hasn't made him sick by now, nothin' will. Now, let's see here…" she peered over the railing, studying Giselle. "Come on up here, girlie; nothin' to be afraid of!"

Her mouth was still open in disbelief.

"You don't have to be afraid of us," Laverne reassured her. "Hugo, there, he's nothing but a big talker."

"Eh?" the pudgy gargoyle responded.

"Victor here's as sweet as honey, and **I** sure won't hurt ya. Now, come on, sweetheart…that's it."

Giselle slowly stood back up, studying the three with a suspicious look on her face. "…You're really on OUR side here?" She asked skeptically.

"Of course!" waved Laverne. "Why, we're GARGOYLES, sweetheart." Several pigeons came to rest on her head and shoulders as we moved inside. "It's our job to protect the cathedral- and everyone in it!"

"…Well, I guess that makes sense."

"Of COURSE it does," Hugo assured. "We've been up here since before Quasi took up residence, believe me. I remember him as a baby…he wasn't that hard to raise, actually…" He muttered this next part crossly. "…If ya don't mind stayin' UP half the night!"

"What I don't understand is why he's so depressed," Victor said concernedly. "Watching the Festival of Fools has always been the highlight of the YEAR for Quasimodo!"

"What good is WATCHIN' a party if you never get to go- HERE! Get away from me, go on, ya buzzards!...He's not made of stone, like us."

"So…what should we do?" Giselle asked them tentatively.

"I vote we convince him to go to the festival!" Hugo said. "The kids' been locked up here his whole life; if WE don't push him out the door, Frollo sure ain't gonna do it!"

Giselle frowned at the mention of the judge. "But won't that get him in trouble?"

"Maybe…" I put in. "But think about him living his whole life up here…It's worth a shot. All in favor of Operation 'Get Quasi to the Festival?'"

The three talking statues raised their hands, followed by Giselle, hesitantly, since she was just catching on.

We went inside, where Quasi was seated at his table. He briefly ran his hand over the two unfinished wooden girls- Giselle and I- before sighing and resting his head on his arms in defeat.

"Quasi, what's wrong?" asked Laverne gently. "You wanna tell ol' Laverne all about it?"

"I…I just don't feel like watching the festival, that's all," he tried. Well, we could all see through THAT façade. We gave Laverne a thumbs-up from behind, and she rested a finger on one of the wooden townsfolk as she casually said, "Well, did'ja ever think of GOING there, instead?"

"Sure. But, I'd never fit in out there. I'm not…normal." There he went with the low self-esteem speech again. It was kind of aggravating after a while. Didn't he see how great he was? Or had the judge's words penetrated his thoughts so deeply that he was completely blinded to the fact that he was worth more than his appearance?

"Oh, Quasi, Quasi, Quasi," Laverne patted him on the shoulder. A huge pigeon rested on her face and she glared up at it. "…Do ya mind? I would like to have a moment with the boy, if it's alright with you!"

Giselle chuckled next to me- she actually chuckled- and I cast her a surprised look. Her expression turned blank, but I could tell she wasn't as afraid of the three as she had been moments ago. Maybe simply because they were so easy-going. It was like talking to your grandmother, or a fun uncle. A pudgy uncle, who loved to play games and eat junk food.

Hugo hopped up on the table and gave it to him straight. "Hey, quit beating around the bell tower. What do we gotta do- paint you a FRESCO?"

"As your friends and guardians," Victor added, "we INSIST you attend the festival."

"ME?"

"No, the pope. Of COURSE you!" Hugo quipped, shoving a wooden replica of the pope into Quasi's mouth. Another giggle from Giselle caused a smile to break across my face, too.

"It would be a veritable POPERY of educational experience!"

"Wine, women and song!"

_Okay…_

"You can learn to identify various regional cheeses."

All right, I couldn't help bursting out laughing at that, and Giselle cracked up too.

"Regional CHEESES?" I laughed.

"Bobbing for snails!" Hugo put in, which had Giselle on the floor, gasping for air. "Whaat? What's so funny about it?" he complained. When she only continued giggling in response, he rolled his eyes and tossed the bucket of water he'd been holding at her.

Big mistake.

Giselle came up sputtering for air, looking incredulously at Hugo. "You- you-"

Her hair was dripping wet. Let it suffice to say, for future reference for all, that Giselle does NOT- I repeat, does NOT- like it when her hair is wet.

"Uhhh…" Hugo backed up nervously as Giselle stalked toward him. I put one arm in front of her, which thankfully, stopped her. She resorted to glaring at the statue from across the table. "…Sorry?" he offered sheepishly.

"…Go on!" I whispered to Laverne, hoping to avert the situation at hand.

"Oh, right!" she smiled, looking up at Quasi. "Quasi, take it from an old spectator- life's not a spectator sport. If watchin' is all you're gonna do, then you're gonna watch your life go by without you."

"Yeah," Giselle put in. "You've already lived your whole LIFE up here!"

"You're human," Hugo ventured. "With the blush and the hair and the naval lint… We're just part of the architecture!"

"I liked you better when you were a SILENT part of the architecture," the blond muttered, earning a glare from the chubby gargoyle.

"Yet," put in Victor poetically, "if you chip us, will we not flake? If you moisten us, do we not grow MOIST?" He dunked the empty bucket on Hugo's head, causing him to flounder around in confusion for a few seconds.

I looked out the window. It was getting lighter outside, noisier as people made their way to the festival. I caught Laverne's eye and motioned for her to hurry up. We didn't have much time.

"Quasi, just grab a clean tunic and a pair of hose and-" she started.

"Thanks for the encouragement, but you're all forgetting one big thing," he sighed.

"WHAT?" we all exclaimed incredulously.

"My master," he stated, taking hold of the wooden figure behind him. "Frollo."

"OH," we all wilted as the realization hit us, the room fading into silence.

"Well…" Giselle said slowly. "If he doesn't know we're gone…"

_Bad philosophy, bad philosophy,_ I chanted mentally, knowing full well that sneaking out was exactly what Quasi was going to end up doing anyway. I stayed silent.

"When he says you're forbidden from ever leaving the bell tower…does he mean… EVER ever?" Victor mused.

"NEVER ever," He emphasized. "And he HATES the feast of fools. He'd be FURIOUS if I asked to go."

_Well, dang it. This crummy minister is messing with MY APPOINTMENT!_ I fumed. _No festival means no song, which means no musical, street-filled, scene, which means no Clopin!...Stinkin' Frollo._

We were trapped.

But then, Hugo, comic relief Hugo, actually got a devious smile on his face, as if… as if…

He was devising a plan…

"Who says ya gotta ask?" he smirked.

"Oh, no!" Quasi said, shocked at the notion. Well, at least sneaking out wasn't an option in his book, either.

"Ya sneak out…"

"It's only one afternoon," Laverne said helpfully.

"I-I couldn't-"

"And ya sneak back in."

"He'll never know you were gone!"

"And if I got CAUGHT…?"

"Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission," Victor put in.

I was almost tempted to intervene and talk some sense into them, but I decided to let Quasi make his own decisions, which, okay, may have been a little selfish on my part, but what if he'd never left the cathedral? There'd have been no movie!

I could tell they were slowly convincing him. "He might see me!" he argued, sounding less confident.

"You could wear a disguise!" Giselle grabbed his cloak from a nearby hook and handed it to him. "Just this once. Like I said, what Frollo doesn't know can't hurt'cha!"

"Ignorance is bliss," Victor agreed.

I did a mental face-palm as Laverne executed the one perfect argument that sealed the deal in his mind. "Nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever."

I saw the decision made on Quasi's face as he leaped to his feet.

_Oh, no._

"You're right!"

_No, we're not!_

"I'll go!"

_Bad idea!_

They all cheered as Giselle, the gargoyles and I trailed behind him to the trapdoor.

"I'll get cleaned up…"

"Yeah!" Hugo yelled.

"I'll stroll down those stairs…"

_Uh oh-_

"I'll march through the doors and-"

"Quasi-!" I warned, seeing the threat before he did.

"Good morning, Quasimodo."

The new voice reverberated strongly in the space, leaving a cold feeling in its wake. The rest of us were instantly silent. I felt Giselle's hand on my arm; she yanked me into the shadows and we hid behind the stone Jesus' face.

I heard Quasi's disheartened voice out of the silence. "…Morning, master…"

"Dear boy…whomever are you talking to?" the grave tone came again. They crossed to the table and Giselle and I crept further behind the face, out of sight.

"My…friends," he said haltingly.

"I see. And what are your friends MADE of, Quasimodo?"

"Stone…"

_What is he, three?_ I thought angrily. _He knows full well they're stone! Why don't YOU try living up here for twenty years and see who YOU talk to?_

"Can stone TALK?" Frollo asked pointedly.

"I'm gonna shove him down that staircase," Giselle hissed. I put my finger to my lips. If he found us here, it would NOT be good. I could see us heading to the Palace of Justice already.

"No, it can't," came the reply, as if he had heard this lecture before.

"That's right. You're a smart lad…Now. Lunch."

I could hear the sounds of Quasi setting the small table.

"Shall we review your alphabet today?" the minister asked.

_We don't have time for all this dialogue!_ I thought. _The festival's going to start soon!_

"Oh, yes, master, I would like that very much." Aand, now he was giving up. Great.

"Very well. A?"

"Abomination."

"B?"

"Blasphemy."

"What kind of alphabet is-?" Giselle whispered loudly.

"SHH!" I clamped a hand over her mouth.

"C?"

"Contrition."

"D?"

"Damnation."

_Ugh._

"E?"

"ETERNAL damnation."

_What the…?_

"F?"

"Festival."

Crap. I heard Frollo spew wine and Quasi must have realized his mistake.

"Excuse me?" the judge exclaimed.

"Forgiveness!" he tries to correct his error.

"You said… festival."

"No!"

"You are thinking about going to the festival."

He finally consented to that much and continued to plead his master's permission, even though he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere. "It's just that…you go every year."

"I am a public official, I MUST go! But I don't enjoy a moment."

_Liar. You woman-chasing liar._

"…thieves and hustler and the dregs of humankind, all mixed together in a shallow, drunken stupor…"

I could hear them move out to the balcony, and Giselle and I cautiously emerged from behind the stone bust.

"If we're gonna get out of here, we've got to do it now!" I urged. "Frollo will likely post guards at every door. Unless you want to zipline down to the square, let's get out of here!"

"Okay," she agreed. We made our way to the balcony, and I glanced back one time at Frollo and Quasi before disappearing down the staircase. I could hear the faint strains of the beginning of another song as we made our way down into the dark corridor.

_We've got to get out of this cathedral and away from Notre Dame before Frollo finds out we were ever here!_

I wondered if we'd ever be able to go back up to the bell tower safely. Maybe, maybe not. It depended on the chaos outside, if Frollo was distracted by his job... or a certain gypsy girl; but I hoped we'd at least get to meet up with Quasi at the festival and explain why we left so quickly, and maybe even say goodbye. He'd still manage to sneak out…right? I hoped so.

Giselle and I ducked into a shadow as a couple of Frollo's horsemen rode past the church. Day had barely broken and they were already hard at work patrolling the streets, supervising the activities of the feast. Children avoided the horses' hooves but still ran across the road with more joy than usual. Women waved to one another out of windows, wringing wet laundry and hanging it on clotheslines to dry, chatting about music, colorful displays, and other town happenings.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked Giselle. "Judging from the movie, I'd guess we've got about... thirty minutes at the most?"

Giselle gave me a knowing look and I rolled my eyes. Finally, I relented. "Ugh, fine, but we're only spending a FEW MINUTES in that jewelry store-!"

"YES!" She shrieked, drawing a few stares, and yanked me toward the little cluster of shops we'd landed in front of the first day. I could distantly hear Quasi's voice ringing out in the background, singing of how much he wanted to be free of the stone prison he'd been trapped in for years. Somehow, I wished we were doing something more important to the movie's cause right now than browsing an earring shop. But, then again, we'd be busy soon enough.

"Look at these!" she said for the millionth time.

"Yep," I sighed. "They're brilliant."

"Hey, I wanted an honest opinion!" She said indignantly.

"That WAS my honest opinion."

"You sound like you're ready to fall asleep!" Giselle argued.

"Exactly!" I retorted, impatient. "Can we go now?" I didn't like shopping very much at all. When my mom and I went shopping, I only had a limited attention span of about an hour at the most. With everything going on in the movie, and the festival starting any minute, that span had been reduced to about quarter of an hour. Which had long since passed.

"In a minute," she gave the dreaded response that all non-shoppers abhor with every ounce of their being.

_AAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!_

So...there I was, trapped in a jewelry store with my friend, a mere thousand yards away or so from the biggest party I'd ever attended. Ahem- was ever GOING to attend. If we ever got out of there.

Which was questionable at that point.

"…Do you have any money on you?" came the voice from the next aisle.

_This is going to be a long day,_ I thought wearily.

...I had no idea how right I was.


	6. The Festival: We All Get in Trouble

"Come on, Giselle, we're missing it!" I yelled excitedly.

"Just a sec- I think that lady shorted me ten cents."

I dragged my friend behind me as we joined with the mob slowly making its way to the square below Notre Dame. Colorful tents lined the streets; performers juggled and breathed fire- at a safe distance, of course. Gypsies and other Parisians danced in the streets. Some of the crowds were pouring towards celebratory events in other parts of the city- I'd heard there was a play and a bonfire somewhere, too; but there was no way we were missing front row seats to the main even of the movie itself.

Giselle had dragged me around shopping for too long, and by the time we'd finally made it to the cathedral, the trumpets had already started playing. I glanced upward just in time to see our new best friend, Quasimodo, sliding down a flag line toward us, and smiled. He'd be getting closer to the action than he thought in a few moments. As the crowds sang, I shoved past people until we had a spot right below the stage. Satisfied, I turned to see the hunchback swinging on the same rope down into the single clearing in the square, where he landed in front of several singing figures in black hooded robes.

_Come and join the feast…of…_

"Fools!" Right on cue, Clopin slid out from beneath the hooded figure in the center, colorful as ever. Bells jingled on his costume as confetti instantly exploded in the air and flags unfurled behind him. The crowd erupted in cheering, so loudly that I could barely hear the accordions and other instruments playing in the background. This was one of the reasons I loved these movies- the magic element- in this case, the festival. The crazy thing was, we were actually part of the festivities! Giselle and I laughed as Quasi tried in vain to run from Clopin, who caught him up in a dance to the amusement of everyone.

_Once a year, we throw a party here in town,_

_Once a year, we turn all Paris upside down_

_Every man's a king and every king's a clown_

_Once again it's topsy-turvy day!_

Caught up in the laughter, we drank in the satirical sights as Quasi ran around in bewilderment, appearing somewhat scared yet also very intrigued with the new close-up view he was getting of the world outside his church.

"Haha! Look!" Giselle pointed. "He's in a women's chorus line!"

I choked on a barely-repressed guffaw. "…So's Clopin, and he's in a _skirt_…"

We looked at each other and burst out laughing; since everyone else was doing the same, we fit right in. Giselle glanced around as we danced to the cheerful music. "…Hey, where'd he go?"

I paused and shrugged, searching the crowd. "I dunno…maybe he took a bathroom break?"

"In the middle of a musical number?"

I shrugged again. As we watched, all kinds of people joined the party in the square- from the not-so-desirable types to the downright insane to the drunk-as-a-skunk characters- come on, it was barely noon!- everyone was joining in the festivities. It was like being downtown on New Years Eve, basically, but with a more fantastic feel that somehow resulted from being in a Disney movie. There were way too many people, tents, and bits of confetti to see very far in any direction, so it took us a minute to find Quasimodo in the fray. He was dancing with a heavyset woman in a purple dress in the middle of a circle of other dancers. Unfortunately, I also spotted another familiar sight- a black carriage with an escort of horsemen rolling into the square.

"Your best buddy's back," I elbowed Giselle.

She turned to look in the direction I was staring. "…Frollo?" I nodded. "What's he doing here? Doesn't he hate these people?"

"He's an official," I said simply.

_Come one, come all_

_Hurry, hurry, here's your chance-_

_See the mystery and romance_

Frollo was seated in a designated judge's tent now, and Clopin was pushing Quasi towards us, up to the platform. I remained riveted on Clopin as he jumped onstage and continued dancing, his voice rising in volume along with the anticipation of the moment, right up to the instant when he threw down something that exploded in a big, blinding cloud of smoke. When it cleared, Esmeralda was in his place, and I momentarily remembered the scene in the tent between her and Quasi that must have occurred when we were wondering where he'd had gone. Now he and the rest of us were staring up at the gypsy woman as she did her sultry dance. I had to admit, she was beautiful, and I admired her, but I just didn't enjoy the dance in the end. There was something too proud about it, too seductive, for it to be light-hearted and laugh-worthy like the rest of the celebration. The only part I was tempted to laugh at was the moment she pulled Frollo's little hat down over his eyes- the scared look on his face at her close proximity and playful behavior merited some amusement, at least. The rest was over quickly enough, and Clopin was back onstage. Ah, yes, true entertainment. Not that Esme wasn't great, but…

_Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for_

_Here it is, you know exactly what's in store_

_Now's the time we laugh until our sides get sore…_

_Now's the time we crown the king of fools!_

I paused as I remembered what was to follow. Yes, I did know what was in store, and the lighthearted laughter wouldn't last long. The realization dampened my mood, but I forced myself to focus and take this one second at a time. Esmeralda was unmasking people and her goat, Djali, was pushing them off the stage in a heap. Somehow, Quasi had wound up in line. Giselle was laughing and pointing at him and saying something that I couldn't make out. I quickly glanced over my shoulder at Frollo's tent. I couldn't see him very well from here, but I guessed that he was about to become really angry really fast.

Esmeralda finally reached Quasi and tried to pull off his mask, only to discover that it was actually his skin. Surprised cries rang throughout the crowd as the realization hit everyone simultaneously.

"That's no mask."

"It's his face!"

"He's _hideous_!"

I inwardly growled at them. So shallow, seeing only the appearance. It didn't matter that the man had been locked up his entire life without contact with any of them- he was automatically a savage monster because he was deformed.

"It's the bell-ringer from Notre Dame!" One man exclaimed, aghast.

_Wow, great job, genius…_

My heart broke at Quasi's expression- all of his hurt at the world's rejection was displayed on his features, and it stung me inside as well. Giselle stared wide-eyed up at him, looking half-fearful for him and half-angry towards his mockers. Just as everything was reaching a crescendo, and I was convinced Frollo was about to storm down from his perch and wreak havoc on his "son," Clopin stepped forward, attempting to calm the masses.

"Ladies and gentlemen, don't panic; we asked for the ugliest face in all Paris, and here he is- Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame!" And just like that, the brainless crowd rushed forward, convinced, to take him onto their shoulders. I blinked, stunned, trying to process it all, as the puppeteer's voice rang out above the noisy roar of the excited crowd. "Ev-ery-bo-dy…!"

_Once a year, we throw a party here in town_

"What's with them?" Giselle asked, shaking her head.

_Once a year, we turn all Paris upside down_

_Once a year, the ugliest will wear a crown_

"…They're mocking him, and he's trying to fix the situation," I frowned. The procession reached another platform.

_And it's the day we do the things that we deplore_

_On the other three-hundred and sixty-four_

Quasimodo, clothed in a purple robe and a crown, accepted a scepter from Clopin as he smiled down at the crowd, looking happier than we'd seen him yet. I couldn't help feeling glad, for a moment, that he felt accepted, however temporarily, by the Paris townsfolk…even by the gypsies, though I couldn't help being slightly disappointed in them for making him into such a joke.

_Topsy-turvy, _

_Wild and crazy, _

_Upsy-daisy,_

_Topsy-turvy day!_

Ugh. More confetti. So much that it become difficult to breathe properly without inhaling little scraps of colored paper. The square erupted in cheering as the climax of the celebration reached its end. Cheers of "Quasimodo!" sounded from all sides, and Giselle and I pushed towards the platform to get a better look at him.

Big mistake.

As soon as the first tomato hit Quasi square in the face, I knew that we should immediately put some space between us. I cringed as the crowd gasped at Frollo's guards, but the horsemen only continued to throw fruit and jeer at him. "Hail to the KING!" _Splat._

Townsfolk began to laugh horribly as he slipped on the juice and fell onto his back. Giselle gasped and looked around at the guards. "Stop it!" She yelled, but because the crowd was in such an uproar, it was impossible for to hear her from more than ten feet at that moment. Ropes flew up from several sides and wrapped around Quasimodo's neck and arms. "Stop it!" Giselle cried louder. She pushed through the Parisians more roughly, dragging me behind her.

"Giselle, wait-" I warned.

"Out of my way!"

_Oh, no…_

Suddenly, with a ferocity I hadn't seen him possess, Quasi rose up, tearing at the ropes that bound him and consequently pulling several people off of their feet. Frightened gasps permeated the air as the onlookers realized how strong the bell ringer really was. Instead of fearfully running away, however, they flung more ropes upon him and two men tied him down, spinning the circular wheel he knelt on like some kind of sick merry-go-round.

"NO, QUASI!" Giselle shrieked, fully shoving people out of her way now. No one was listening or paying attention to her- they were all too busy throwing fruit at _him_. I ground my teeth in anger, hating the injustice of this, but also realizing that getting any closer could result in all three of us being in danger. Frollo was definitely watching everything now.

"Master!" he called out to the judge helplessly. "Master, please! _Help me_!"

Frollo simply looked away and folded his hands, refusing to interfere. I couldn't help but growl audibly at him. Giselle tugged forcefully at my arm, and I pulled her back, hissing into her ear. "Giselle, STOP!"

"NO, we have to get to Quasi-!"

"You don't understand-"

"Let go!" She yelled, breaking free of my grasp.

"NO, GISELLE!" I screamed, but it was too late. Parisians blocked my path to her as she bolted towards the makeshift stage. I gaped and then stamped my foot in frustration. She was so stubborn! Didn't she understand that if she went up there she was going to end up in a HEAP of…?

…Oh no.

This was BAD.

GISELLE was the first one up on the platform, not Esmeralda- though the gypsy woman was close behind. My best friend slowly approached the hunchback, who saw her and gradually raised his head towards her in recognition. The jeering and cruel laughter died down, and the square was suddenly completely silent as every eye was fixed on the two of them for what seemed like several long minutes. She reached out to brush his short, red hair away from his eyes, and gently wiped the juice off of his face. A few moments later, Esmeralda had reached Quasi's side, kneeling down beside Giselle to help. I could barely make out her words.

"Don't be afraid," the gypsy woman said softly. "…I'm sorry…this wasn't supposed to happen."

Together, the two of them methodically cleaned Quasimodo's face and hair of the fruit as the silent crowd stood and watched, enraptured by the scene. I was warmed by the thought that the gypsies hadn't intended _this_; they'd only meant for a little teasing to result, not this kind of harsh, degrading mockery. It didn't make their teasing of his ugliness right, but the fact that Esmeralda was trying to apologize and help him to make up for it him led me to forgive her anyway. The touching scene among the three of them was abruptly cut off by Claude Frollo's sharp voice ringing out across the square, snapping all of us out of a daze.

"You!" He pointed. "Gypsy girl! Peasant! Get down AT ONCE!"

"Yes, your honor," Esmeralda responded, in contrast to Giselle, who, judging by her expression, didn't look like she was going anywhere anytime soon. "Just as soon as we free this poor creature!"

"I FORBID it!" Never one to take orders from him, Esmeralda unsheathed a dagger from underneath her skirt and cut the ropes holding Quasi down. The crowd erupted in another gasp- they always seemed to be caught off guard, I noted- as Frollo sneered, "How DARE you defy me!"

Giselle looked like she was beginning to understand that rushing up here on impulse hadn't necessarily been the wisest choice. Still, she remained by Quasi's side, unwavering in the face of the judge's anger, as Esmeralda addressed him.

"You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people! You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help!"

"Silence!" yelled Frollo.

"JUSTICE!"

Another collective gasp. I silently cheered the two of them on as Esmeralda turned to throw off the remainder of Quasi's restraints. Together with Giselle, the two of them slowly pulled the poor man to his feet. Quasimodo regarded them both forlornly, looking shocked that they were both willing to help him AND to defy his master for his sake.

"Mark my words," Frollo growled, "you two will pay for this _insolence_."

"Then it appears we've crowned the wrong fool," retorted the gypsy woman. Giselle reached out and snatched a felt crown from one of the nearby Parisian's heads and determinedly held it out to Esmeralda, who proceeded to throw it mockingly at Frollo's feet. "The only fool I see…is YOU!"

_Ooh…burn. _And if a goat giving him a raspberry didn't complete the whole insult perfectly, I don't know what else would have.

The guards moved in to arrest them, and I really started to panic. This is what I'd been afraid of with her rushing up there like that…!

Esmeralda, being clever, pulled her little disappearing trick and was gone from the platform before I could blink. Giselle glanced around worriedly as the horsemen closed in, and I was just about to run to her aid when the gypsy woman's smooth voice called out from across the square. "Oh, boys!"

Every eye turned towards her, and obvious cries of, "There she is!" and "Get her!" sounded from all sides. Again, these people were really at the top of the food chain, if you know what I'm saying. I was able to make it up to the platform while Frollo's men were busy chasing Esme around the square, and I grabbed Giselle's arm.

"Let's go!"

We ran until a few spare horsemen who spotted Giselle abruptly cut us off. "That way!" One shouted. I realized with a shudder that it was the same two soldiers from yesterday _and_ the day before that- apparently, Disney wanted us to become fast enemies, because the look of familiarity on both their faces mirrored my own sentiments.

"Faster!" I gasped, pulling her away from them. I didn't know how I expected us to outrun them on foot, but we actually did an adequate job of it until our escape path was again cut off by a man on stilts, an older man rolling by in a cage (random, I know), and three other soldiers who were still trying to nail down Esmeralda. Our pursuers were a mere ten feet behind us now, and they about to grab hold of Giselle, who wasn't quite as fast as me, when Esmeralda suddenly sprinted by us and took her by the hand. "Come on!" She panted, the two of them running towards another stage. The horsemen chasing them accidentally took out Frollo's booth in the process, and to my relief, I saw them safely mount the stage and disappear in another poof of smoke, accompanied by the cheering of the crowd.

For a moment, I took the luxury of relaxing.

Then, my eyes found the man who had grabbed me yesterday, still on his horse. He turned and looked at me as two others joined him. The sneer on his face made my heart instantly sink.

Nope, I wasn't off the hook.

He pointed with a gloved hand, and I immediately turned to run.

"Get her! She was with them, too!"

_This is bad,_ was the only thought in my mind as I bolted as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I had to push people out of my way, but I think they were too shocked or distracted by what Esmeralda had just done to care. The skies darkened with the presence of an oncoming storm as I fled the festival. I could hear the clamor of the guards behind me and the sound of Frollo's voice, ordering them to apprehend all of us. I pushed my burning muscles on, scared out of my wits. I mentally berated Giselle for running up there so naively, and myself for letting her. Now we were both caught up in this! What if we were captured? I could only hope they'd both gotten to safety.

Finally, I cleared the mob of people gathered in the square as the first drops of rain splashed down around me and raced for one of the adjoining streets.I chose one at random and my eyes darted around frantically, searching for an alley to turn into. Nothing. The movie had made it seem as if there were an infinite number of twists and turns to duck into in the city of Paris, but this was the _one street_ that only went in a single direction- forward. _Great choice, Hannah!_ Thunder rumbled overhead as the flow of rain quickly increased, pelting my face and my back with icy cold drops.

"_Ya!_" I could hear the soldiers urging their animals on, gaining fast. My one option was to try one of the doors on either side of the street and hope to God it lead somewhere safe. I didn't have more than thirty seconds before they'd be upon me, so I impulsively chose a rickety wooden door to my right and prayed for a miracle as I sprinted toward it.

It didn't take much strength to break down the already-splintering wood. I barged inside to find an abandoned, musty room coated in thick, gray dust that blocked any light from entering through a single window. I desperately scanned the space for a staircase, a basement- anything. There was a narrow passage going up in one corner. I didn't hesitate to take it.

I found myself on the roof, back out in the rain and not a second too soon- the soldier in the lead who had grabbed me- Marius, I'd heard the another man call him- had already dismounted and run into the building.

I froze in terror, stopped breathing, when I heard footsteps at the top of the steps, _right behind_ _me_. I thought, for a split second, that I had failed this test, and Disney had seen fit to kill me off here and now, as a gloved hand wrapped itself around my mouth.

"Follow me," a male voice whispered into my ear. My heart automatically resumed its frantic beating as hands pushed me further onto the roof. We- meaning this unknown person and I- continued running for our lives- they were risking their freedom helping me. It didn't matter who it was beside me at that moment; all that mattered was that he was helping me escape Frollo's guards, and quite possibly saving my life. I followed blindly, forced to put my full trust in my new guide as we reached the building's edge. It was clear we'd have to make use of the only exit possible: an impossibly thin flag rope like the one Quasi had used earlier that hung over the road and would somehow have to hold our combined weight.

"**STOP**!" Marius' voice rang out across the rooftop- he'd gotten up the stairs already!- and as I jerked back around to see him draw his sword, Clopin pushed me forward from behind.

…Wait, _Clopin?_

"GYPSY!" The soldier roared.

Yep. It was Clopin.

"Hold on," The gypsy king said simply, grabbing the line with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist. Before Marius could utter another threat- and before I was mentally prepared in the least, I might add- we were both airborne, flying down the rope at what felt like fifty miles per hour.

I gave a short yelp as the sensation of falling hit my stomach, hard. The rope bounced under our weight but somehow held up as we flew down towards the street. I didn't have time to think about where the heck Clopin had come from- I hadn't even seen him since his song had ended- or why he was helping me; as soon as our feet hit the ground, we were off again. The two guards still in the doorway turned and shouted at our backs as we fled down an alleyway that I hadn't seen before, escaping from their sight.

We ran for a long time- long enough to ensure that no one could have stayed on our trail. Luckily, I had run long distance at school, so I was used to the exercise- if only I'd been fast enough to disappear with Esme and Giselle a few minutes ago, this would have been a different story; but no, I hadn't been fast enough to keep up with them, let alone outrun the guards on horseback. The two of us darted in and out of more alleys, trying to avoid the huge throngs of celebrating Parisians. We bolted past a stone building where a play was going on- four people in golden attire recited lines as hundreds assembled inside the edifice, straining to hear them over the sound of dignitaries' names being called. I glanced behind us every minute or so, just to confirm that the Palace of Justice loomed further and further behind us, and that Marius and the rest of Frollo's guards weren't still giving chase.

After almost ten minutes, Clopin ducked into yet another alley and we finally slowed to a stop, coming to rest behind a high stack of crates to catch our breaths. I gasped for air, my legs shaking, a little from the exertion but mostly from the shock and excitement of the festival's events. I collapsed onto a crate and leaned my head back against another, trying in vain to process everything that had just happened.

The only two things I could register were that Clopin had just helped me escape from Frollo's guards…and Giselle was somewhere in the city of Paris with Esmeralda, no doubt still in danger, and I had to find her. Soon.

* * *

><p><strong>If any of you have read the actual novel, you'd hopefully have caught the reference to Pierre Gringore's play…yes? No? At any rate, please review, and sorry for the late updating. I hope everything was accurate as I wrote this all in a day :)<strong>


	7. Building Relationships

**Oh, goodness. I don't even know how to begin…**

**Sorry? No, no…**

**I was really bu—no.**

**I'm…sorry? Already tried that.**

**Um…I hope you all…can…try really hard to forgive me for waiting this long and keeping you all bored. There!…Kind of. Please don't throw knives and commemorative jester hats at me! (Ducks) **

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The air under the cloak was stuffy, but Giselle could care less about that. A few more steps, and they'd be inside, out of the pouring rain and sight of the soldiers madly roaming the streets. For a second, she almost didn't mind the goat being on her head, either. Almost.<p>

The thick wooden door shut firmly behind them, and Giselle clawed her way out to fresh air. "Well, we're back inside…" _Although we could have taken refuge inside one of the shops…_She desperately hoped Hannah was okay. She wasn't the fastest runner, but there were other nearby hiding places, right...? _You'd BETTER not die on me!_

The gypsy girl seemed seemed captivated by the church's beauty as they walked further. Choir voices echoed throughout the building. Giselle wondered if Quasimodo had already gotten all the way upstairs yet—she hadn't seen him since the spinning platform. So angry, she'd climbed up there not to defy the uptight, old judge but to help her new, close friend. Sure, there'd been situations like this at her school; but never this bad, and never towards someone she cared about as much as she'd grown to care about him.

Pulled out of her thoughts, Giselle stared at the other girl's face as it took on a strange expression. She was confused at first, before she heard a footstep on the ground behind them—a heavy one. Turning, gasping, she was grateful the gypsy was one step ahead of her, already pulling the guard's sword from its sheath and fairly throwing him onto the ground in front of them.

"_You."_ As if it the word were a fatal illness.

"Easy, easy…I just shaved this morning."

"Oh, really? Well, you missed a spot." He backed up, still lying on the polished checkered tiles, as Giselle studied his face. _Huh. He's not too bad looking…pretty handsome. Still, if he's arresting us, I should probably help the gypsy._

"All right, all right, just calm down. Just give me a chance to apologize."

"For what?" She asked suspiciously.

Before Giselle could think of a way to assist, Esmeralda was sprawled on the ground, the guard having reclaimed his sword. "That, for example."

"You sneaky son of a—"

"Ah, ah, ah! We're in a church," he corrected her.

"Then why'd you bring your sword?!" Giselle retorted.

He momentarily shifted his glance up to her. "Because I'm not sure what gypsies-lovely as they are-" his eyes traveled back to Esmeralda. "are capable of."

Giselle forced her eyes from his face to his cloak. _…Heh. Perfect._

"Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?" The other girl had found a candlestaff and was using it to fight back. Discreetly, Giselle snuck around, outside of the man's line of vision, Djali her only witness. She'd overheard the goat's name on the way in, but she ignored him now, grabbing the hem of the guard's cloak.

"...That's hitting a little below the belt, don't you think?"

"No, _this_ is!"

Giselle threw the cloak over his head as the other girl went in for a well aimed attack. Flustered, the guard struggled to untangle himself from the blue fabric as the girl put down the staff. She sent Giselle a momentary approving look before shoving him up against a pillar.

"...Touché," he mumbled beneath the cloak, not bothering to fight her grip. "Permit me—I'm—I'm Phoebus. It means…sun god." The other three shared an amused look, Giselle fighting a laugh, before turning their attention back to the hooded head. "And you ladies?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"You don't exactly look like you're in the position to be questioning _us."_

"It's called an introduction, and I'd be very grateful for the chance to breathe normally again. Thanks."

"You're not arresting us?" she checked.

"Not as long as you're in here. I can't."

Another round of exchanged glances, all but Djali's more neutral, and the gypsy finally released Phoebus, allowing him to right his cloak and attempt to recover his remaining dignity. _They should have crowned _him_ the King of Fools,_ Giselle mused. _At least he'd make a handsome drunkard, unlike the other guy from last year._

"You're not at all like the other soldiers…"

"Thank you."

"But then…why are you here?" Giselle asked, still suspicious of anyone associated with Frollo. She knew the guards were his cohorts, and that made them villains… two of them had consistently attacked them every day since their arrival. However, this one didn't seem to have too much of a threatening aura about him.

"Yes, if you're not going to arrest us, what do you want?"

"I'd settle for your name," he said more quietly, his gaze fixed on the gypsy.

"…Esmeralda."

"It's beautiful." Djali and Giselle looked at each other with bewilderment and a little disgust. "Much better than _Phoebus, _anyway."

_What is she doing? What's gotten into her?! _Giselle thought, steaming. _These are the men who just tried to have us killed and she's—!_

"Good work, captain! Now, arrest her!" Frollo and his other guards came storming into Notre Dame, to everyone's surprise.

Djali darted behind Emseralda and Giselle took a step backwards. She stared wide-eyed at Phoebus, horrified at the title. "_Captain_?!"

"Claim sanctuary!" Phoebus whispered to Esmeralda. When she glared back, he turned to Giselle. "Claim sanctuary—say it!"

Esmeralda growled, "You tricked us."

"I knew all soldiers were the same around here," Giselle added in what she attempted to be a menacing tone. They'd taken Hannah-or chased her somewhere-and this one had been wily enough to try to trick them. But why?

"I'm waiting, captain!"

"…I'm sorry, sir. They claim sanctuary…there's nothing I can do."

_Huh…Maybe…he…wasn't tricking us…?_

Frollo's voice again cut off her thoughts. "Then drag them outside and—"

"Frollo! You will not touch them!"

Despite days in the church, this was the first up-close encounter Giselle had had with the archdeacon. He protectively put an arm on Esmeralda's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said to both of them. "Minister Frollo learned years ago to respect the sanctity of the church."

Frollo's sneer could have curdled milk. Without a word, he turned on his heel and motioned his soldiers away. The archdeacon proceeded, more accommodatingly, to escort Phoebus out as well.

"Yeah! Go archdeacon!"

Esme smirked at her, Phoebus' call of, "All right, all right, I'm going!" Causing Giselle to smile back. The moment only lasted for…well, a moment, before Esme gasped in pain. Left arm twisted behind her back, tall, black-cloaked figure looming behind her—Giselle barely had a moment to stare before pain shot up her right arm as well. If she moved, she knew it would hurt ten times worse, so she stilled, glancing fearfully up at the old face of Claude Frollo.

"You both think you've outwitted me," he snarled under his breath. "But I'm a patient man, and gypsies don't do well inside stone walls." Their meager struggles were fruitless. Giselle watched in horror as Frollo buried his nose in Esmeralda's hair.

"What are you doing?!" She cried.

His attention stayed fixated on the gypsy girl. "I was just imagining a rope around that beautiful neck."

She finally pushed him away, releasing his hold on Giselle, too. "I know what you were imagining!"

"Such a clever witch," he immediately countered. Such a clever witch. So typical of your kind, to twist the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thoughts."

_LIAR! He was the one feeling her up! _To her mild relief, Claude proceeded to make his way out, not lingering around to threaten or touch her.

"Well, no matter. You've chosen a magnificent prison, but it is a prison nonetheless. Set one foot outside, and you're mine!"

The door slammed shut, sealing out the sunlight and any hopes of leaving that way. Esmeralda looked around, quickly finding another door, and pulled it open. Giselle almost ran outside into the rain in hopes of finding her friend, until she caught sight of the soldiers assembled in the street. The only one on a horse spoke: "Frollo's orders: post a guard at every door."

_SLAM!_

The gypsy girl sank to the ground as Djali joined them. Giselle felt like giving up, too—there was no way out without confronting a guard, and she wasn't keen on doing that again. They were ugly and mean, and if they all worked for that pervert, Frollo, she wanted nothing to do with them ever again. Even that stuck-up, half-friendly Phoebus. Besides, who knew if Hannah or any of the attending gypsies were safe?

"Don't worry." Esme spoke resolutely, catching her and Djali's attention. "If Frollo thinks he can keep us here, he's wrong."

"What about the others outside?" Giselle asked worriedly.

"We'll find them. I don't know how, but we WILL escape this place and find your friend and the others."

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes of fruitless searching and waiting left us cold, in the rain, and no safer than we'd been to begin with.<p>

"It's late," Clopin frowned, looking around. "We have to make it back to the Court. The darker it gets, the more guards Frollo will send out, especially tonight." He spotted a metal gutter on the side of an adjacent building and effortlessly scaled his way to the top.

"We're not going back for them?!" I exclaimed. That had been part of my plan if nothing showed up.

"…The judge posted guards everywhere," came his reply. "I can see the two who chased us from here; they're back at the church." Clopin slid down the pole and looked right at me. "We won't be helping them by running back in there and getting captured."

I tried to ignore how shy his direct gaze made me. My worry for Giselle and Esme overpowered my timidity at the moment. I protested, "But what if they're still out there?!"

"They'll either find a place to hide or rendezvous back at the Court. Now, we really should go."

It was then his meaning hit me. Go. To the Court. US. Plural us. "…You want ME to come?" _Well, that was quick. _In the movie, the non-gypsy characters took the first three-fourths of the film get to the hideout.

"You can either come with me, or you can stay here until the night watchmen come around." A small smile crossed his lips. "I wouldn't recommend the latter, nor would I subject mademoiselle to such a thing."

I sighed with relief and jogged to catch up. "I think I'm gonna come with you…" A few silent moments of walking passed before another thought hit me- I had forgotten to thank him for saving me from those guards in the chaos of the chase and searching. I stared at the ground, willing myself to be courageous enough to speak to him again (hey, talking to a major Disney character who isn't as openly friendly as Quasimodo is nerve-racking, okay?) "…Thank you for saving me."

He seemed to come out of whatever thoughts he'd been having and looked down at me. "Only returning a favor," he replied. His amiable tone assured me he didn't just see me as a bothersome peasant he was obligated to bring along. "Besides, Marius has been one of our…_closest_ friends in the guard for many years."

I offered a silent prayer for Giselle's and Esmeralda's safety, and together Clopin and I traversed alleys as the sun sank. Before long, we managed to strike up a friendly conversation. I learned briefly about Clopin's past growing up with the other gypsies, and I gave him as much of my story as I could without hinting at the time difference. I told him my friend and I weren't allowed to give anyone extensive information out, which was true because we'd agreed to keep quiet about it as a safety precaution. I think he understood that, being in hiding himself. My concern for Giselle and Esmeralda was allayed somewhat by talking with the gypsy king, and I soon found myself almost perfectly at ease with him. Clopin seemed to loosen up, too; he laughed occasionally and told anecdotes about his friends in the Court.

We made pretty good time through Paris, and approached a familiar graveyard by the time dusk was falling over the now-distant towers of Notre Dame. Clopin pulled aside the coffin lid and we descended into a damp, cold tunnel. There was only darkness until a flare of orange illuminated his face, and I caught myself thinking again for a second how handsome he looked. He handed me another torch and led the way down the corridor as I continued telling him about Giselle's and I's past two days. When I got to the part about her begging to go shopping, my incredulous tone elicited another laugh from him.

"She certainly didn't waste time enjoying the bounties of Paris, did she?"

"No," I smirked. "And she made sure I paid for every cent of it, too."

"Oh. Well, at least someone paid for it. Most of the people I know would stuff their pockets and walk out without a second glance."

"…And you?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He was silent a moment. "With my family, my job, and my position, I haven't needed to steal. So I haven't."

"That's good." _This is, after all, a good quality._

"But I know a good number of women who…" He looked around the corner of the tunnel, his expression growing suspicious. "…never…stop shopping…hm. That's weird."

I waited for an explanation for about ten seconds, then asked, "What is it?"

"I think…wait here." Before I could protest, Clopin had darted around the corner and out of sight.

_Great, _I cringed. _That's GREAT._ I held my torch up, trying to illuminate the shadows around me. Something darted by my feet in the sewer water, and I gasped, stepping back. _Just a rat, Hannah. It's a RAT. Chill out…_ Seconds passed slowly. At what I judged to be a full minute, but what was probably less, I chanced a look around the corner, hoping not to get spontaneously ambushed or attacked by a swarm of bats.

…Nothing. That was all there was in the adjoining tunnel, besides a stack of skeleton heads and water. No bats. No rats. No Clopin.

I walked slowly, carefully down the passageway. "…Clopin?" I whispered softly, not daring to shout. No response. Well, at least this wasn't boring…I sighed frusteratedly. "Clopin?"

Another rat ran by, and I yelped, picking up my pace. I thought I saw something flash behind me- another torch? No. There was no one. _Would you get a hold of yourself?!_ I thought angrily, stomping down the tunnel. I became determined to let nothing, animal or human, scare me. I was brave enough to be in a Disney movie. I was NOT the clichéd damsel in distress, dang it! I was brave! "CLOPIN!"

I pretty much had a heart attack as something moved next to me. I screamed, reeling backwards, realizing it was a skeleton head. Gasping for breath, I crashed onto the stony, wet floor. It took me a few seconds to register the fact that the heads had been gypsy costumes in the movie, that this skeleton had a body…that this skeleton was NOT a skeleton but in fact a human being, and that said human being was now laughing his head off, the voice all too familiar. I sighed, my heart slowing considerably, and managed to stand as Clopin removed the mask from his face. "That was great!" He grinned. "You were COMPLETELY terrified!" He continued laughing so hard he had to put one hand on the wall to steady himself.

"…Yeah," I somehow smirked, blushing slightly. "Well…that was a little low for a first-time visitor, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry," he wiped a tear from his eye, still beaming like a little boy. "I couldn't resist. It's always fun to pull one over on new people!"

"I'll say," I rolled my eyes, shaking my skirt to get the water out, very unsuccessfully, I might add. Admittedly…it had been pretty funny. You know, after my heart had started back up. "…_Now_ are we going to see the Court?"

Clopin looked at me, his laughter giving way to mock annoyance. He grabbed his torch from behind the skeletons and stalked onwards. "Come on, then, you insufferable Parisian!"

I giggled and followed, no longer as wary of the black, dank tunnels. Concern for Giselle and Esmeralda's well being loomed in the back of my mind, but present excitement for what I was about to see overpowered it. I just hoped the Court was more lifelike than it had been in the movie.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm really sorry for the delay…I've been focusing on other stories but I know there is a great number of people who really wanted an update on this one. I apologize again and I'll try to make the interims between chapters much, much, MUCH shorter. Thanks for everyone who reviews, favorites, and follows my stories! I appreciate feedback!<strong>


	8. Down There, Living in the Dark

_**This is the story of a girl**_

_**Who procrastinates and irks the whole world**_

_**And while the updates were all months apart, you still hopefully love her**_

_**When she writes**_

**I apologize for the outrageous lateness of this update. I want to thank everyone for sticking with me, and urging me to continue. I have some good ideas for this story but I'm going to need encouragement. I love all reviews! (And reviewers, those too). I'm grateful to you all for enduring this thing. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>I could smell bread and roast meat even before I rounded the corner. The scents coupled with the myriad of colors of fabric and flags stopped me in my tracks. I stood soaking in the spectacle of a bustling marketplace. Music played from somewhere, distantly. My eyes swept the entire space. In the far back, colorful living areas faded to dark passageways, where tunnels like the one we'd just exited ran off. My gaze came back to Clopin, who proudly smiled as he gazed across the Court. When he looked at me, it turned smug. "Well? Did I tell you?"<p>

I stared back, playing dumb. "…Tell me what?" He glowered at me. I grinned, "Yeah, it's…great. Amazing." We spent another few seconds looking before he ushered me along.

"Now, we need somewhere for you to stay. I won't have a helper of the gypsies sleeping on the tunnel floors outside the Court—not my idea of hospitality: that's Frollo's."

I couldn't help smirking before I remembered Giselle. "Do you think Esmeralda is safe? And Giselle?"

"…I think they're smart enough to find a hiding place and wait out the Guard," he nodded. "Frollo is our only problem—if he finds a way to flush them out…but Esme's been on the street her entire life. Marius and the others get rustled if their uniforms get a little rusted."

I nodded. We drew near to a marketplace. "Or if you happen to step in front of their horses."

"Or if they happen to come in contact with rotten fruit." I stared up, amused, and it was his turn to feign innocence. "…What?"

"Rotten fruit."

"There's a lot of it around Paris…"

My brows furrowed. "Like the kind they all threw at Quasi?!"

The gypsy cleared his throat self-consciously and turned to a nearby tent. "Chal!" A young boy who had been counting money looked up. Clopin waved him over. "Come here!"

The thin munchkin eagerly sidled out of the tent, past a woman whom I took to be his mother, and trotted over. His dark hair complimented his smooth, brown skin. His eyes were dark as well, and I judged him to be between thirteen and sixteen. Probably on the younger side. "Yes, sir!" He breathed, excited to be called over, or glad Clopin was back—I wasn't sure which.

Clopin gestured to me with a theatrical flourish. "Meet _Harvey_."

"Hannah," I prompted.

He frowned skeptically, frozen in half-bow. "You're sure you're not a Harvey?"

"…Yep."

"Ah. Well then. Meet Hannah. This is Chal—he's my—well, like my assistant. Sometimes—when he's not working at his mother's shop."

Chal smiled up politely, but I could see his eyes taking note of my skin and clothing. "…She's not from here," he observed cautiously.

"No. She's not from Paris, either," Clopin observed, and my blood suddenly chilled. "She claims she's from Paris—but I've seen enough locals to recognize a foreigner." _How does he know that?!_ My mind screamed. Their suspicious gazes reminded me too much of the way the king had scrutinized Quasi and Phoebus in the film…right before attempting to hang them. Chal gazed up at me, and I guessed my expression resembled that of a intelligence-deprived fish. Clopin leaned in and whispered, "I don't know if you know this, Harvey, but…we're foreigners, too."

This brought a giggle from Chal and another smirk from me. "You're kidding."

"No! Really! See? We have an immeasurable amount of things in common. So, Chal: want to show Hannah-Harvey-foreigner around while I check in?"

Chal nodded and looked back at his mother, who nodded, giving permission.

"Excellent! I'll be back in a while, and I'll see you at dinner." He pointed forward before striding off, greeting citizens of the Court on his way to wherever he did business. _What a card. Not that that's news…_

"So, Hannah-Harvey-foreigner," Chal mimicked his leader's condescending tone even though I was taller than him.

"Hi," I returned shyly. "…Your mom has a nice shop."

Chal nodded, observing the shop. "We sell jewelry. Want to see?"

The pieces were exotic—not necessarily polished to perfection, yet they gleamed in the dim, romantic torchlight of the Court. Although Giselle had dragged me shopping grudgingly before, I couldn't help yearning to wear such beautiful, tarnished gold ornaments myself. "…They're really stunning."

Chal glanced questioningly up. "Where are you from?"

"…Let's just let that be our secret, okay? You, Clopin, and I." I walked with him to get away from the stares of the surrounding people, who'd slowed their business to observe us….to observe _me_. When we were isolated, I told him, "I'm from another country."

Chal's dark, wide eyes met mine again. "What?!"

"I know," I felt guilty, probably for intruding on their home. The adults probably perceived me as a danger. "I know…I hadn't planned on coming, but Frollo's guards are after me." _Maybe that'll get me some brownie points._

"Frollo's guards…" Chal repeated thoughtfully. "People don't trust outsiders. I don't know why Clopin brought you."

The next minute was filled with uncomfortable silence as I felt unable to answer and Chal didn't say anything else. We traversed commercial and residential areas until we came close to the back of the Court—close to those hazy, circular tunnel mouths that led into the dark. Despite the labyrinthine appearance of the Court, it was actually fairly easy to navigate.

"…You know, my sister is adopted," he said. "So I understand, about being an outsider. You'd just better not bring any trouble."

"…I won't."

* * *

><p><em>Right. So the archdeacon suggests we find someone in <em>here_, _Giselle thought broodingly. _Well, _he_ certainly didn't offer any services. What's a priest guy supposed to do, anyway? Help people! Gosh dang._

Djali and Esmeralda were observing the goings on of the cathedral. Sighing, Giselle followed them, already used to and slightly bored of the proceedings. What she really wanted to do was get back out in the rain and figure out where her friend was…and if the festival was going to continue. Anything to escape this boring place with unhelpful archdeacons.

Her head whipped around from a statue at the sound of Esmeralda's smooth, singing voice.

_I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there…_

Giselle cringed. _Oh great._

_I don't know if you would listen to a Gypsy's prayer…_

What _was_ it with this movie and back-to-back musical numbers?!

_Yes, I know I'm just an outcast—I shouldn't speak to you. Still I see your face and wonder—were you once an outcast, too?_

That caught Giselle's attention, but only long enough for her to agree that God _had_ been an outcast on Earth. She still didn't understand why the woman was choosing this moment to sing, unless…

She was asking for help.

_Hm…_maybe the girl was onto something. After all, no one human around was going to offer any assistance…Still, she didn't exactly like the idea of praying—ahem, singing—to a statue in front of everyone.

_God help the outcasts, hungry from birth_

_Show them the mercy they don't find on Earth._

_Oh great! Candles! Thank you, Disney! _After all, she was Giselle—she went shopping and hung around in the bell tower out of sight. And the last time they'd made a scene in the cathedral, asking for money…? It hadn't been pretty.

_God help my people, we look to you still_

_God help the outcasts, or nobody will._

The blonde wasn't keen on attracting more attention. These people would recognize her and throw her to the guards. _Peasant,_ they'd call her—and Esmeralda, too. Why didn't she see this was dangerous?!

To her chagrin (surprise), however, the people surrounding Esme began to take up the song for themselves. Either they were too distracted by their own wishes to consider the Gypsy's background, or they just didn't care about her. Giselle observed them as they walked toward the stained glass window at the far end of the chamber.

_I ask for wealth. I ask for fame. I ask for glory to shine on my name._

This was getting pretty dramatic. _Maybe I should follow them and see what happens._

_I ask for love I can possess. I ask for God and His angels to bless me…_

Ooh, crescendos. Those were definitely significant in Disney. Giselle had never seen the movie, but as she moved with the crowd, she figured something exciting was about to happen—that was the formula, after all, right? She stared up at the legions of hands against the backdrop of golden light and waited.

And waited.

The singing went on, Esme was gone, and…

Nothing.

Her brow furrowed. _Okay, well this was a gigantic waste of ti—_

_**Wait.**_

…Holy crap. What in the heck was tha—?

_**Wait.**_

Giselle huffed. She'd never exactly been a model citizen, or churchgoer for that matter, but if she was honest, the reason He was usually so silent probably came from her constant refusal to leave Him much room to speak. To hear God's voice in her head _now_, though, was reassuring…despite the large amount of conviction threatening to spill over on her face, of course.

_Wait for what? _She snapped mentally. _Oh, and while we're at it, what exactly do you plan to do about the situation outside and our entrapment in here? Do you have any idea how scared we were? You know if something like that had killed us, YOU would be responsible. How is your plan even to drop us _in_ here?—it's like some sick dream a _fifth_ grader wrote down on a scrap of notebook pa—_

_**Are you expecting an answer with that much talking? **_The gently sarcastic voice came.

…_Sorry._

Music was still coming from somewhere, but surprisingly, Giselle started to disregard, or forget about, those surrounding her in favor of staring up at the glass window.

_Soo…how are we supposed to get out of here?_

…_**Wait.**_

Okay, _now_ this was starting to get annoying. This was the part Giselle had a problem with: depending on a God when she didn't even know what to expect…trusting Him. Why should she? What was to say they wouldn't all get sent to the Palace of Justice eventually, anyway—for all their _waiting_?!

_**Relax, and trust me. **_The voice took on a lightly sarcastic tone again._**Do you really think a character so close to two main Disney characters would get killed off so early in the movie?**_

She couldn't help smirking. _Emphasis on 'this early.'_

_**You're important to me; I'm going to protect you. Just focus on staying with your friend and let me take care of the rest.**_

…_Okay._

Friend…friend…

Esmeralda.

_CLANG!_

Someone was shouting. Giselle whipped around to see Quasi running from a candelabrum he'd just managed to overturn. When had he shown up?! He was headed back up to the bell tower, at the urging of the crowd.

Giselle suddenly didn't like them as much.

Of course, Esmeralda, being her sweet self, decided to go up and chase after him, too.

_How naïve! _The blonde fumed, following them and drawing stares she no longer cared about. Those polished extras could wonder all they wanted—at least she had God and whatever Disney script elements were on her side. _I mean, I know we went up to the bell tower, too; but it was after at least five minutes of careful consideration and we were armed with foreknowledge…_

_Hey. I just used a pretty big word there. _

_Cool._

* * *

><p>By the time Chal and I got back to the dining tent, I had almost memorized the path from the front of the Court to the ominous tunnels in the back. I'd also asked Chal more about life underground, and found that gypsies rarely got to go into the open—a few times, the Feast being a big event, but not more than about five times in a year in groups. Clopin had a job up top, but most of the others were beggars who would get taken off the streets by the Guard if they ventured outside. It sounded like a rough life, constantly living down here.<p>

The plus side to the Court was the familiarity you didn't find above—Giselle and I had hidden in the bell tower to avoid being trampled or arrested for loitering; here, though Chal and I got stares (presumably because of my skin), the people mostly left us to our own devices. There were friendly shouts across miniature streams where women did laundry. Men boisterously modeled weapons of varying sizes to consumers—a slightly unsettling sight for me.

I followed Chal to the dining area, where a huge blue and pink tent was preceded by several big cooking fires in a cobblestone square of sorts—a clearing in the tent forest. People had already begun to gather. I didn't see Clopin around yet—I tried to suppress the disappointment that came with that thought. Chal pulled me over to a small gathering of people—a family. I recognized his mother from earlier.

"Hello," I greeted, smiling slightly.

There was a definitively suspicious undertone in their stares. The father and mother looked at me apprehensively before she offered a much less warm greeting. Along with his parents, Chal appeared to have two siblings—a sister with thin, black hair that swept around her head, soft as cloud. She stared up at me, partly behind her mother's skirt, with big, blue eyes. The other sibling was a squirming baby boy with extremely pale skin held against the mother's body with more firmness than I imagined would be used if I hadn't been there.

_Great…just by showing up I've done something to make these people suspicious of me? Where's Clopin? He needs to explain my presence!_

Chal spoke, pulling me out of my thoughts. "This is my sister, Dooriya, and my brother, Tem." Tem cried raucously against his mother's chest, writhing, in a bad mood. She studied me as she shifted him to a more comfortable position. I swear she was raking my entire form with her eyes, evaluating, maybe mentally searching me for anything threatening. _Geez, lady…_Maybe going with Chal hadn't been a good idea.

"Hello," I greeted again, at a total loss. Just then, thankfully, somebody over at the fire pits rang a loud bell, and people started to gradually congregate and line up for food. I moved with the family as they walked, unsure whom else to be in line by. "Dooriya's adopted," Chal told me when we'd joined the queue. "She's from another band; but Tem just needs sunlight—he's from our fam—"

"Chal!" His mother hissed, yanking on a strand on the back of his head.

He yelped crossly, swatting her hand away. "What?!" He glared back at her. "Clopin brought her here. He asked me to show her around!"

"But not to tell her everything about our family!" She snapped.

I felt like a kid at friend's house when they're fighting with their parents…except Chal wasn't a friend yet, and all these people kept staring at me like they weren't completely opposed to the idea of adding me to the concoction in the huge pots.

Chal faced forward again, casting me a neutral glance. "Sorry."

I shrugged, muttering something along the lines of, "It's okay." I added, "Thanks for telling me so much about your…sister and brother." Oh, Disney—the awkwardness was nearly tangible. I tried to focus on the people up ahead getting food, not the family behind me who were no doubt burning into my back with their stares. _Maybe I was better off staying with the convicts up top and hiding in Notre Da—_

"Hello!" A familiar voice called, its owner trotting up in familiar colored garb.

_Clopin! Thank God…hey, save my life. _"Hey!"

"Did you show her around?"

"Yes…" Chal returned. I thought he might be acting reserved because of his mother.

"Great." He gestured to the line in front of us, taking my shoulder with the other hand. "Paris' finest dining establishment. Everyone calls it—get ready for this, it's a showstopper—'The _Dining_ Tent.' If you look closely, through the entrance, you can see the world famous ambiance that is…what?"

He frowned at Chal and I, who were giggling under our breaths, and bent down to the girl…Dooriya? Weird name. "You see? I can't take them anywhere. This one never stops asking questions—" He waved at Chal, "or making comments." The girl's face lit up with a familiar amusement. "And the other one draws stares the entire way."

"Hey!" I grinned uncontrollably, even though it was all too true.

"And she brings nasty _guards_ with he—"

He stopped as realization slammed into both of our minds—along with the stares of about twenty people surrounding us. Dooriya's amused expression turned fearful, and her eyes shot to me, more apprehensive than her parents' had been. Conversations died down as the painful staring continued.

My face was red. I wanted to demand an explanation from the king, but I couldn't speak, and everyone was listening intently to our group now. Chal's parents looked less than pleased. I didn't know where to look.

"—Ah," Clopin faltered, looking uneasy for the first time I'd seen him in person. "She bri…hah, you know what sounds good? Beans." He crouched to Dooriya's level again, caught her eye. "You like beans? I like beans. Of course you do, you want to be a chef!" That brought a small, albeit extremely belated smile out of the girl. "…Yep, most nutritious vegetable, I'll say. And delicious." He called out to the front of the line, conspicuously, giving me time to address the outrageous amounts of blood rushing around in my face. "Do we have beans tonight?!" Okay, playing it up a bit with the excitement, but I couldn't care less.

"…Yes," someone replied, eyeing him with muted, respectful suspicion. "We always have beans." The surrounding silence was nearly tangibly agonizing.

Clopin's sheepish smile almost made me feel better about my own growing reputation. "Right!...Carry on then." He waved. Slowly, the people cast me last glances and returned to their own conversations. The gypsy king cleared his throat and muttered to Chal and me. "That wasn't my smartest gambit just then."

"You think?!" I whispered.

"Hey, at least now everybody knows you're here."

"And thinks she's a renegade," Chal added.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly sure that's a _good_ thing," I groused.

Clopin looked almost guilty as he surveyed the square in front of the tent. I didn't want him to think I wasn't grateful, however, so after a few seconds, I smirked, "…'The _dining_ tent?'"

Chal chuckled. "This is why he lets _me_ lead the tours instead of him."

"What?" The king rounded on his assistant. "That's not why. I let you lead the tours because I have very important, kingly _business_ to attend to!"

"Puppets," Chal coughed behind a hand, which threw Dooriya and I into another fit of giggles. I happened to catch her mother's eye, and noted that she looked slightly less on edge than she had previously. Maybe this king wasn't completely airheaded after all.

He was presently wearing an indignant expression. "Yees, you all have your little fun," he quipped, folding his arms childishly and looking off. "And when you're done you can wonder to yourselves why I didn't bother performing you a bedtime story for the next week."

Dooriya started forward, emerging from the skirt and flailing her arms. "No!"

Clopin smirked to himself, unrelenting. "I guess it'll be a pretty long night," he added over his shoulder.

"Clopin, please, tell us a story!"

Chal guffawed as his younger sister urged him to shut up.

"Apparently, your evening's in danger," I smiled at Chal.

"I stopped listening to those tales years ago," he dismissed me.

"Oh, really?" Clopin challenged, finally turning back to us. "IS that so? Chal—monkey-boy—'I'm-gonna-need-another-story-beca use-the-sound-of-Tem-trying-to-sing-opera-gives-me -_nightmares_!'"

Chal cried out indignantly while his mother actually _chuckled._

Wow. Okay, Clopin wasn't an airhead. In fact, he was an unsung genius: I wasn't the bane of the universe for this moment. Maybe I wouldn't be, for the rest of the night! And if I could fly low, and prove myself, and maybe make some more relationships, this could really work out—

"MEAT'S DONE!"

"_HURRAAAAHHH!" _The universal male cheer went up all around the dining square.

"Oh, good," Clopin clapped his gloved hands. "This should be good." He regarded me. "Have you ever had a gypsy-cooked meal before in your _life, _young lady?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Well!"—Always a flourish, with this one, "_Tonight_ is, as they say, _the _night! By which I mean, the most delicious experience of your entire adolescent existence!"

"But tell me, is the _food_ good?"

He gave me another mock glare, but couldn't hide his smile completely. "…You are just _asking_ for the leftover bowl scrapings."

"Are _those_ good?"

Chal smirked again and released a hysterical giggle at the king's face.

Clopin was barely concealing his smile now. His voice rose imperatively with each word. "Just wait until we get to the end of the line, _okay?!"_

That sent Dooriya off again, her blue eyes sparkling in the firelight. These kids were fun to be around. Her parents actually looked amused.

_This could be going a _lot_ worse. Time to try out Disney's idea of gypsy cuisine…hey, it's better than the pickings up in the bell tower!_

* * *

><p><strong>See that button? Right down there. Yay! Press it! :D<strong>


	9. After Dark Exercise

**Um…I…**

**You….**

**I…**

**Enjoy this.**

* * *

><p>Have you ever had four kinds of meat on your plate at once? I have. And it's harder to pick which three to try first when six different condiments or spices are circling the picnic-like tables at one. Wooden bowls filled with multicolored garnishes were handed around amongst wooden utensils stabbing at food. The kids weren't even required to eat with the utensils—Dooriya ate the brisket with her hands, and Tem was too young for the tough meat. Chal was the only one who attempted to use his fork until he grew bored of the effort and shoveled it in, too. Everyone shared the platters—there wasn't anyone hoarding: the kids who tried had their hands swatted by parents. There wasn't any reluctance when someone asked someone else to pass a plate. It was…refreshing.<p>

"So," a woman locked gazes with me after a few minutes. I lowered my fork. _Oh boy._ "You're from outside Paris, huh?" The woman's tone wasn't accusatory, but there was a slight edge to it.

"…Uh, yeah. I'm…new in town." _I'll put it that way._

"What brings you here?" Another man asked.

"Well…not Frollo," I smirked. "I just…it was really weird. I didn't come here by choice." _Don't give too much away._ Despite my hunger, the sight of their stares made my stomach cramp a little. "It was a rushed thing, with Giselle and I. She's like my sister. We were kinda rushed out here without prior warning." There. They'd understand having to be on the move all the time.

The man still looked a little skeptical. Chal's father was also watching me intently, but seemed to realize I was done speaking and went back to his plate.

"How do we know you aren't a spy?" Another voice suddenly spoke up, from a little further down the table. My hands felt cold as I turned to face him. I was aware of any pretense of a polite smile dropping from my face. Everybody else looked at him, too. "A Palace guard's daughter or something, playing prisoner?"

"I'm not a palace guard's daughter." The words came out breathily. "I would…never…"

"People." Clopin was frowning slightly. "She saved Clara and Romulus—have we forgotten that?"

Chal's father spoke. "It could have been staged."

Clopin gave him a mild glare. "Yes, those things typically are staged for no apparent reason. Come on. Let's not take after Marius and company." His face suddenly brightened. "Who wants to hear the story of how we single-handedly…" He glanced at me. "Well, I guess more like double-handedly—sent Marius back to the Palace as turned around as that guy on stilts at the festival?"

Expressions lifted at this. Several of the children cried, "Me, me!" I exhaled through my nose, grateful for both the distraction and the noise that allowed me to sigh without being heard. _Thanks, Clopin. Aaagain._

As the gypsy king told the story, the children's eyes lit with delight, and a couple of the grownups chuckled when he reached the part about the guards getting shown up by Esmeralda.

Other stories of Marius' actions circulated—one man had been caught trying to steal some food and had been thrown in the Palace for two weeks without any. Another woman had had her children taken away from her for some reason I didn't understand. While Marius was only doing his duty, I purposed not to say anything around the table that could get me any more despised. Being preachy wouldn't help my steadying reception.

By the end of the meal, my stomach felt like splitting; but every bite had been so flavorful I wouldn't have eaten any less if I had to do it again. Everyone dispersed when it was over, and Chal offered to show me the tent where he and his family stayed. It was still early, but a lot had happened that day, so I figured I'd take a moment to rest before heading back out for any nighttime activity. Maybe Clopin or someone else could show me around the common areas of the Court, where Chal said nighttime activities happened. I wasn't so sure about how I'd like that, but figured I would go and see. _It might be better than being antisocial in a tent all night._

* * *

><p>When in Paris, take a detour to appreciate the sights…especially when being held under house…<em>church<em> arrest by the most dangerous man in the city. Then is the _perfect _time to do some sightseeing.

Or, Giselle thought, for her, some double sight-seeing, as she'd already experienced the bells Esmeralda was standing underneath at this moment. "Hello!" She shouted. The sound reverberated throughout the bell.

"She likes you," Quasimodo said. "Would you like to see more?"

Giselle wandered around, growing bored with the two visitors, as Esme's goat belched under Big Marie. Quasi took his new almost-girlfriend (Giselle figured they'd end up together) out onto the rooftop to look at the sunset. She decided to follow them in a few minutes. Instead, she proceeded to the balcony where Quasi had talked to the gargoyles on that first morning. The view was almost the same, just of a different part of Paris. She could see the Palace of Justice. Knots worked their way into her stomach. _Is Hannah in there? Did I fail to save her? _Giselle wondered.

Slowly, in the midst of her worried thoughts, the sun set over the Parisian skyline. Giselle rested her chin on her hand and gazed over the city. Forget the shopping now; forget the festivals and the singing…she had to get her friend back.

Maybe the uglies could help. She looked around for the gargoyles, then realized they were probably with Quasi and Esme. Climbing the steps, she emerged into a gently starlit scene. Quasi and Esme seemed to be having an in depth conversation, and were positioned closely together on the rooftop. Well, she couldn't say she hadn't seen that coming.

"You helped me," Quasi told her as Giselle drew closer. "Now I will help you." He took her hands. Giselle's heart leapt. Could he…?!

"But," Esme protested, "there's no way out. There's soldiers at every door."

Quasi's expression was downright sly. "We won't use a door." With that, he lifted himself on top of the railing.

"You mean…climb down?"

"Sure."

_Waaaait a minute._ Giselle glanced over the side. _That's a drop as far as the Empire State._

"You carry him," Quasi said, motioning to Djali, "I carry you. I'll come back for you, Giselle," he promised.

Esmeralda didn't even have to think about it for very long. Giselle almost wished he had taken her first, so she wouldn't have to think about it. "Okay," the gypsy girl said, motioning to her goat. "Come on, Djali."

"You two be careful," Giselle told them. She couldn't help wringing her hands together. This could go so wrongly. So, so wrongly.

"We will be," Quasi gave her a reassuring smile. Then, turning to Esme, "Ready?"

"Yes."

He picked her up bridal style and said, "Don't be afraid." Under different circumstances, Giselle would have totally fangirled; but for now, all she could do was note how cute that was, walk to the railing, and grip it tightly.

"I'm not afraid," Esme said simply.

The night skyline seemed quiet below…Giselle couldn't be sure nothing was going on…the guards…

In one swift motion, Quasi launched all three of them over the side! Giselle held back a scream as he dangled by one hand by one of those gargoyle-esque things.

"_Now _I'm afraid," she heard the other girl's voice echo. _Quiet! _She thought.

"I'll be back, Giselle," Quasi promised one more time. "The trick is," he told Esme, "not to look down."

The last thing Giselle heard from them was the frightened bleating of the goat…and then they were gone, their voices fading into the night, becoming warbled murmurs and then…nothing. Not even the sound of Quasi moving about the towers could be heard…

Giselle stayed atop the tower for what felt like half an hour before anything happened. The knots in her stomach grew worse. What if Hannah was being tortured right now? What if she was having to brave the dangers of the gypsy camp all by herself? A funny image of Hannah actually sampling all different types of jewelry in the gypsy camp ran through her mind; but she was sure that wasn't what was happening.

_Come on, Quasi…how long does it take to drop your girlfriend off at the-?_

He emerged from the passageway looking slightly put off. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Quasi shook his head. "Nothing…it's nothing. The streets down there are crawling with guards now. Our descent might have alerted them. Esmeralda's waiting for you at the bottom. Are you ready to go?"

Giselle's stomach, which was already in knots, flipped at the sight of the drop. "Um…"

"I promise, I won't let you fall." He held out a hand, and a reassuring smile crossed his face.

"It's not that I don't trust you…" She trailed off. Maybe it was.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

_All right…here's where the trust comes in, I guess. _She squeezed her eyes shut. "Just do it."

"Okay…here we go."

_Okay…_ the world shifted for Giselle, the floor turning into a drop hundreds of feet high. For once, a school concept slammed to the front of her brain—the speed of an object free-falling, and how much it increased by per second.

Swinging crazily, wildly, Giselle instinctively gripped Quasi's neck in a vice that left him choking. "Giselle…too tight."

"Sorry," she managed, not letting go one bit.

"This," Quasi coughed, "is gonna be a long trip."

* * *

><p>I was walking back to Chal's tent as I was going to be staying with them, when I started to hear the voices. At first, it was just the murmur of the court that I heard—men laughing far off, women passing me in twos and threes, talking amongst each other, their faces garbed in blues, purples, and reds adorned with gold…children running about, raising their voices slightly…I thought how different this was from the demeanor up above, in the cathedrals…<p>

But then, words started standing out to me—a pair of two gypsy men standing by a stand, looking at me. Muttering. I involuntarily raised an eyebrow, continuing to walk past them. About two hundred meters down, I made a casual left turn and then another one a few seconds later. In a short while, I had doubled back behind the stand—one with a purple canvas overhead. I saw half the back of one of the men and crept slowly closer to the wooden structure.

"—could get repute from the guards as well."

"…don't think Clopin would like it."

"Yeah, but your son is trying to go to school, isn't he?"

A pause; a telling quiet, and a murmured response.

"Well, I'd wager this would get him the necessary funds."

My blood ran cold. I realized what they planned to do just as they turned into the alleyway where I was standing.

We locked eyes. Gazes.

One of them had a beard.

They squinted, and then their expressions morphed into ones of anger.

"Were you spying on us?!" one asked.

"Uh…"

I turned and ran.

Colorful tents passed by as I pumped my legs. People were few over here, but…I could hear their footsteps behind me. I willed my legs to moe faster.

_Are they going to catch me?_

_Are they going to tell Clopin?_

Guilt stabbed through me as I ran. I'd betrayed their trust…

The tents ended and empty, brick walled caverns began. Still, I could hear shouting and splashing footsteps behind me.

It was a good thing they'd caught me near the edge of the court, so not many had seen me running from them and become suspicious. Then, I realized they could kill me and no one would know…I mentally kicked myself.

Through tunnels, through the dim halos of torchlight, splashing putrid water into my shoes and the hem of my dress…I flew, hoping there weren't obstacles hidden in the dark.

Echoes followed me down the dark, nightmare-esque passageways. No Clopin here—just me and these men. I turned right and came to a dimly-lit dead end.

_Crap! _I stumbled through the circular chamber, into the only shadowed place the overhead vent allowed: in the extreme end of the passage. Trying to control my breathing, I stood stock still as the men rushed past my dead end, looked down it, and paused.

I swore I could see them making eye contact.

Then, they turned their feet, continued on, and I was alone.

The moon shone down through the vent above me. I waited, knowing I should go, to beat them back, but feeling petrified.

Would Clopin banish me? Would they report back to him? But then they'd have to tell him what I'd been spying on that was so important as to report…right? Hopefully, they would be deterred by that, not wanting to be found out, and…

It occurred to me that the guards outside the court would bring me to the Palace of Justice…I had to stay here. And chances were, with the lack of witnesses, I could slip back in without a hitch, unless they went to Clopin.

The walk back to the court (or, the jog, more accurately), was tense and too quiet. I snuck back in between the tents, willing my dress to dry. Almost no one was out at this time, in this area…no one stopped me.

Back at Chal's tent, I released a breath, looked around, and ducked inside. The mother was bouncing Tem by the bed, Chal was on one of the floor mats, complaining about his head, and Dooriya was singing. The father was nowhere—probably conversing outside somewhere.

The mother offered me an acknowledging nod, and I thought she must have been too busy to notice my clothing and shoes. I lay down on the mat next to Chal, offered him a brief hello, and told him I hoped he felt better soon. The tent was boisterous enough for a good half hour; but it was more like a family than nothing.

I worried I'd wake to trouble. I worried Giselle wasn't safe. I prayed, and eventually, fell asleep with the taste of spice and starchy noodles behind my teeth, thoughts winding through my brain.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm actually sorry and not sorry at the same time. I'm sorry you guys had to wait so long for this, but I'm not sorry more important life matters got in the way. I'll make more of an effort to finish this story now, as I want to do it for you guys who have been so faithful and have waited all this time, and also so I can check off another project on my long list of things to do. Reviews are appreciated but not necessary! I love you guys!<strong>


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